Entwine
by Star'Lost11
Summary: It takes only a hurt snake for Harry to realize something is very wrong. Uncovering the truth in the lies, he realizes what exactly Dumbledore had done, and concludes to do something about it. Time travel, Dark!Creature!Harry, eventual HP/LV Slash
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR.

Rating: T, maybe later M

Pairing: Lord Voldemort/Harry Potter

Summary: It takes only a hurt snake for Harry to realize something is very wrong. Uncovering the truth in the lies, he realizes what exactly Dumbledore had done, and concludes to do something about it. Time travel, Dark!Creature!Harry, Dumbledore/ Wealsey bashing, eventual HP/LVTR Slash

AN: Allusion to Fate is still going to be primarily what I'll be writing first, but I wanted to get this fic started. It'll probably be updated more iregularily, but with longer chapters. :P

I hope you like it!

* * *

It was times like these, Harry thought, that he should get a bonus just by waking up in the morning. It was as if his whole life could be reduced to one big, ugly joke.

It was things starting out like blocking a killing curse when he was only a year old, being a living horcrux, a punchbag, murdering a professor with his 'mother's love'. He had gotten his blood used in a ritual to make a homunculus for his enemy. He rode a dragon out of Gringotts.

He killed said enemy by not doing anything. "_Expelliarmus_", he wanted to hit his younger self. He had been such a pure little twit.

That's when everything went to hell for him, after the war. When he broke the Elder Wand and threw the rock away, he thought it had been over. He had finished school, become an auror, just like everyone thought he would. He was one of the best too, but it had only taken a hurt snake to have him realize something was wrong.

He could still speak parseltongue.

With the horcrux gone, with Voldemort dead, he shouldn't have heard more than a few hisses. But he hadn't. Something was wrong and like always, he just had to figure it out.

He really should have stayed away.

But he went to Gringotts, and had his bloodline tested.

His mother was supposed to be human. Everyone had thought so, it was a fact. She had been muggleborn.

But when he had looked upon that fresh, crisp parchment covered in blood, he had denied it. No, he had said. He would put it out of his mind.

All that did was make him remember. The snake in the zoo wasn't the first he had encountered. The inability to know whether he was speaking parseltongue or not was suddenly understood. It had always been his first language. He had always been talking to snakes, and they had always spoke back, reverently. He remembered what they would call him, _little lamia hatchling_. They had known even then. So where did that leave him, as he had forgotten all about it, but how?

And so he went to mind healers, and he found what exactly had been missing from his mind.

There were so many things that were just_ wrong. _

The least destructive was a love potion that had been slowly wearing off. Ginny. His girlfriend, his almost fiance. It was _fake. _He had laughed then, taken the antidote, and then sent an owl with a pleasant note to tell her to _stay the fuck away_.

He had a falling out with the Weasleys soon afterwards, but he had been expecting it. They had always been Dumbledore's perfect little light family. All except for George. He was just fine with Harry wanting not wanting Ginny anywhere near him or his food. He wouldn't have wanted a love potion fed to him either.

It wasn't just the love potion he had to contend with though, it was the many memory charms, all with the late headmaster's magical signature all over them. With him dead, he could break through them. And Harry really didn't like what he saw.

It turned out he hadn't been such a nice, little abused child, after all. He had grown up talking to snakes, and serpents were predators that swallowed their prey whole.

That had ended when he was nine years old, when Dumbledore had come and took away his memories of the snakes, of his control over the terrified Dursleys. A couple of personality potions for a few weeks, and then he was into the cupboard, thinking he had lived there all along.

Back to Gringotts, and he learned of Dumbledore's greedy fingers that had been in his vault. If he had still lived, Dumbledore wouldn't have made it more than the night. Harry had lost it. Everything he had thought to be true, it was forgotten. He had the goblins set up the ritual. His binds on his creature blood were coming off. He was a lamia, and even with his blood suppressed, it slipped through the cracks. No wonder he was hotheaded, why he had that odd fascination with blood he told no one about.

He changed in ways he hadn't thought. Lamia were usually female, but like veela, males sometimes inherited the blood. His face had turned more feminine, his lips fuller, his eyelashes lengthening and darkening. His ears pointed like an elf's. Then the feeling of his legs turning to jelly, melding together, changing form. A snake's body took over, golds and dark greens that were almost black. Twelve feet long, he had rose over the goblins, whose faces were all alit with glee. When he spoke, his long-forgotten lisp could be heard clearly.

His ancestor was a demi-god. No wonder he had the power to stop the killing curse with his mother's sacrifice. Blood was very important to the lamia after all.

As soon as he turned back, regaining his legs, he quit his job, as he had enough gallons in the bank from the Potter, Black and his various other vaults he had been gifted to as the Boy-Who-Lived. He was richer than the Malfoys. Harry had gone home, only to find his just-healed snake jumping at him, hissing all about lamia.

He searched for more information, finding more and more of Dumbledore's faults in the Ministry and in certain laws that had been created.

He didn't tell anyone, not even Hermione, who had stuck by him after the Ginny incident, even when her husband didn't.

He caused quite a stir by quitting the aurors, but at that point, he no longer cared what the general public thought of him. They were all just a bunch of spineless sheep.

Then he got hit with a killing curse.

He didn't tell anyone it had got him. He had survived it, all it was to him had been a bright, green light, the color of his eyes, and he knew it wasn't from his lamia blood. Something else was stopping death for him. It was stopping him from ageing. He was twenty-three, and he still looked seventeen. He started thinking about the Deathly Hallows again.

The next morning, they lay on his bedside table.

The Master of Death, it wasn't just a cute title. He couldn't die. He wouldn't age. So he started thinking about what he could do. He had all of eternity for all he knew, and the magical world was growing stagnant. There was already another Dark lord rising. Harry had heard whispers of him whenever he had slipped into Knockturn to buy a few 'darker' books. He wasn't nearly as powerful as Voldemort, but the normal wizard couldn't bring him down.

He knew soon people would be again chanting his name, ordering him to save them. Harry knew he wouldn't be there. He was going to change everything. All he had to do was die again.

He didn't say anything, not even to Hermione, but Luna sent him a goodbye letter. She always knew.

His snake friend, he left in the Forbidden Forest. It was late at night, in early January, when he sat down on the steps up to the attic in Grimmauld Place. It had been two years since he had found the truth, and the new Dark Lord was looming ever closer. He had started to receive letters to kill him for them. Kreacher threw them into the fire after Harry had a good laugh. He rarely went outside without a glamour on anymore, as he was supposed to be twenty-five. He didn't even meet Hermione without it.

The Elder wand in his hand, the stone in his pocket, the invisibility cloak laying over him. He raised the wand to his head, and whispered, "_Avada Kedavra". _

Everything went black.

* * *

"I was wondering when I would see you."

Harry's eyes snapped open. It was the white place, the fake Kings Cross. Leaning forward, he rolled up onto his feet, and met the dark eyes of a man shrouded in black. Or at least, he thought he was male, but he couldn't truly be sure.

"Are you death?" Harry said, his voice slightly unsteady. He had just killed himself after all. The other person shrugged. "If that's what you want to call me."

His eyebrows rose, but he said nothing else.

"I've never had a master before, as there had never been truly, a 'master of death'. But here we are. Fate really must have liked you," the other continued. "She must have seen something in you that made her sure you wouldn't abuse it. But look!" He said, almost mockingly. "It's being abused right now. I know all your plans, what you are. What you've become. Let me tell you, time travel is very dangerous."

"I know the risks-"

The other raised their hand, "I know you do. But there is something else you should know. It's constantly being rewritten. Time is not a one way street, you can go both ways. Many people do. In death, in life. I give some people choices, just like I'm going to do today."

During his speech, Harry's eyes widened marginally. He hadn't known that, and no book had it written down. It seemed it was just death's secret to keep.

"You have three choices for the time you wish to return; one is when you were born."

Harry stared at the man, "Absolutely not."

The man waved him away, "Again when you are hit with the killing curse and become a horcrux-"

"No." He wasn't going to waste his time redoing childhood. He knew he wouldn't be able to get through it without killing the Dursleys.

"The last is the moment you were chosen as the fourth champion in the Triwizard Tournament."

Harry smiled, this was what he had been waiting for. Fourth year, he wasn't a child but not quite a teenager yet. He had no desire to act as if he were a child. Dumbledore would probably catch on fast.

"That one. I'll go with the third."

"As I knew you would," The man smiled, and Harry flinched. It was not a kind smile.

"By going back, I'm not going to be the Master of Death, right?"

The other froze, "Why do you ask?"

Harry rolled his shoulders, moving closer. "I don't want to live forever."

The man seemed stunned for a moment, before laughing outright, "Oh, I can see why Fate give you my gifts. You really aren't like most humans, are you? Most would absolutely jump at the prospect."

Harry sneered. "Why would someone wish to live for all of eternity, when his friends and lovers and family would all die long before? It's a curse."

"I'm glad you realize that. As for the title, if Fate wills it again, you might turn out just as before. So be careful, and don't pick up all three, if you don't wish for the Hollows to return to you."

The man suddenly was right in front of Harry, and he jumped back, startled. "Goodbye, little lamia," His lips curved, "I hope not to see you again soon, but do remember you still have that horcrux in that scar of yours."

The man's hand dove into his heart, and Harry screamed, eyes rolling into the back of his head, as he heard the other's whispered words,_ "Compensation, Master."_

The world spinned, the train station twisting away as his eyes took in the image of hundreds of students, watching in silence at a familiar cup.

"Harry Potter! Harry-"

At the sound of the headmaster's voice, Harry's mouth turned upwards into a smirk. He was back. It had worked. He turned to Hermione, completely ignoring Ron, and similarly as it had been the first time, she looked completely stunned. He rose slowly, taking time to stretch, and allowing for the whispers to start up, but he was about to put a stop to them.

"Yes, coming," He drawled. He sauntered lazily to the front, where Dumbledore was watching him with an unreadable expression. When he got to the front, instead of taking the slip of paper, he turned back to the front. He took out his wand from his pocket, momentarily grimacing at his younger self's stupidity, and raised it to his mouth.

"I swear on my magic that I neither put my name in the cup nor asked another to put it in for me, so mote it be."

Dumbfounded silence, then the whispers returned, even louder than before. Harry ignored them and said loudly, "Honestly, whoever did do this, probably wants me to die. After all, accidents can happen in this sort of thing."

Then he turned, snatching the slip from his stilled betrayer, and left to meet with the other champions.

They were in front of the fire, silent and seemingly uncomfortable. When his eyes found Cedric, they hardened. He wouldn't be dying this year. Seemingly feeling his eyes on his back, the older boy turned, and his expression turned to one of surprise.

"Do they need us back up there?" He asked, jerking a thumb back at the door.

Harry shook his head, allowing his face to turn almost solemn, and said, "No, unfortunately someone has taken up the position to have me killed yet again this year. They don't know who did it yet, but someone made the cup think I was it's own school and made me a 'fourth champion'. Sorry about this, Cedric."

The three champions stared back in shock and Harry shrugged. "If it's any consolation, I won't be participating to win or anything. The cup is yours to whoever of the three of you win. It's only fair."

"Well, alright," The older boy managed.

"Do you often almost get killed at zis school?"

At the trilling sound of the quarter veela's voice, Harry turned his attention to Fleur. It was hard to see the Fleur of the present and the battle-worn one of the future.

He laughed, "Every year. First year was our possessed Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Second year was a basilisk, third was Sirius Black. I can hardly wait to see what this year has me against." The last few words were delivered with such heavy sarcasm that Fleur blinked in surprise.

"A Basilisk? Zen why do you stay here?"

"I really have no idea," Harry said dryly. And he didn't. Why it never occurred to him the first time around made him suspicious of Dumbledore all over again.

"Harry Potter, fourth Tri-"

Harry spun around to meet Ludo Bagman's excited eyes. He cut him off with a quick, "I don't wish to have another introduction, Mr. Bagman. They already know."

The man stopped in the door, slightly disheartened, before he was pushed through by Dumbledore, and the rest of the crew from the first time.

"...Horrible business," Mr. Crouch was saying, and Harry inwardly grinned. Everything was changing so quickly, but he had no interest in being hated for entire other year again.

"Is there any way for me to not participate in this?" Harry said, speaking up once they were all inside.

"No, you must compete, Harry," Dumbledore said, his voice tinged with just the right amount of worry. Lies. All he was to the headmaster was a horcrux and a weapon for the man who created it.

"Then we should also have two competitors as well, Dumbledore. It is only fair," Karkaroff said.

"That is impossible, the Goblet cannot be lit again until the three trials are over," Crouch said.

Moody stared in his direction and Harry was reminded that he was watching his own father. It must have been strange, playing the part of someone else.

"Well, then, we should start with directions for our four champions, with the first task. Barty?" Bagman said, his eyes lit enew with refreshed excitement.

"Of course, the first task is to test your daring. You will not know before the date what you will face, for courage for the unknown is a hard fate indeed. It will take place on the twenty-fourth of November, you are not have help from any teacher, and you will only be allowed your wand during the tournament. What you will receive will help you in the second task. As for your end of year testing, because of the short time you will all have, the four of you are exempted from them. Is that all?"

"You covered everything, I think," Bagman said.

Harry balanced on one foot, only half-listening to them drone on about having a drink later. He had things to do, and all the talking wasn't helping it go any faster. He was already uncomfortable from having his lamia blood locked away from him for so long.

"I think it's time for you two to go back to your dorms. I sure they want to celebrate this unexpected surprise, for Gryffindor, especially."

Harry grimaced at that, and Cedric seemed to noticed, his eyebrows knitting together. They were the only two left, as Karkaroff and Madame Maxime had already left with their champions.

As they walked through the Great Hall, Cedric turned to him. "I didn't know you were targeted so often. I mean, everyone knew about first year, and something happened in second year but..."

He shrugged, "It always gets shut up by Dumbledore. As for second year, it was another possession. He doesn't seem to be able to keep them out, now does he?"

Cedric looked unsure, "It's strange." They were silent for a little longer until Cedric spoke again, "You seem different than I expected. I mean, we haven't really talked before, but from what I seen, you usually act differently."

Laughing slightly, he said, "It's much easier acting as the thoughtless Gryffindor, than who I really am. But I'm done this year. I have no desire to keep this useless mask up as I get attacked anyways."

Cedric looked surprised, but Harry kept his eyes firmly on the wall in front of them. His excess lamia blood that came through with him from the future was singing, and it wanted to _feed_. And Cedric was handsome, so Harry was going to stay away until he got some amount of control again.

"Well, see you later, I guess?" Cedric said.

Harry raised a hand in goodbye, before moving up to the staircase. He past his usual place and continued on until he reached the seventh floor. When he got to the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy, he walked back and forth in front of the blank wall across from it, and slipped through the door that formed.

It was small, and barely lit, but in front of him stood a fireplace and a small bag of Floo Powder. He took the small bag in his hands, grasped the amount he needed, and spoke, "Diagon Alley!" before stepping through the flames.

He made it through, casting a wandless disillusionment charm. He had gotten quite good at wandless magic, more so than the usual witch or wizard, but he knew it probably came from his lamia blood.

He made it past the lingering drunkards, and to the brick wall that made up the entrance to the Alley. Tapping the bricks with his wand in hand, he didn't linger as he made his way through the empty shopping area. When he got to the goblin bank, he undid the charm, and entered. There were only a few wizards in the bank, the goblins looking irritated. He drew up to the closest goblin and said, "I would like to talk to my vault's manager."

The goblin looked boredly upon him, slightly sneering until he found Harry's scar and his eyes faintly widened.

"Harry Potter, we were expecting you a lot sooner," He said.

Harry shrugged, moving past him as he was gestured through. "I got caught up in Dumbledore's web."

"Indeed?" The goblin said, as they moved along the lit up corridor. It was impressive, lined with pikes, swords and the lot. Harry had seen it all before. They arrived at last at the door he remembered.

"Come in," A voice announced, and following the the other goblin inside, he found himself in a large but comfortable room. The walls were a dark, bloody red and the floor was marble. Even so, Harry didn't mind so much.

'Mister Potter, so you have finally agreed to meet me," The goblin at the table said.

He moved to the seat in front of him, laying back until he was settled before speaking. "I'm sorry, but I never got any letters. Dumbledore seems to take them away before they can reach me."

The goblin seemed to bristle at his words, his expression furious.

"Meddling old wizard! I suppose we should start again. I am Rareb, I oversee your family's vaults. I assume you don't know what lies inside them?"

Harry did, but he didn't feel the need to speak of how exactly that could be. "No, I do not. All I know is that I have a trust vault and a few others I will have access to later when I turn seventeen."

"Wrong," The goblin said, "You are incredibly rich, Mister Potter. You have inherited quite a lot of money from your title of being the defeater of the Dark Lord Voldemort. Many have given you their vaults when they died. But that is neither here nor there. Just with the Potter vaults alone, you could live very comfortably for the rest of your life."

Harry only nodded. "I have a few things I wish to do before I leave here. I have a very limited window of time before Dumbledore realizes I'm gone. I wish to do an inheritance test, I want to close all vaults from Dumbledore and have my stolen money taken back from him, and I want to be emancipated."

Rareb stared down at him for a moment, before nodding. "It can be done, which would you like done first?"

"Have the papers signed for my emancipation so if Dumbledore catches wind of this too soon, he can't do anything about it."

The goblin nodded his head, and left the room for a bit, no doubt in search of a few objects.

He knew his lamia blood being undone would take some time, so there was a chance Dumbledore would realize he was gone, but he needed this done that night. He couldn't be under the thumb of that horrid man any longer.

A few minutes past before Rareb returned, carrying papers. He dropped them onto the desk when he sat back down.

"Sign these papers at the bottom. We'll get it filed in the Ministry, and then you'll be officially emancipated."

He did as he was told, signing his name with a flourish and a quickness from being an auror. When he was done, he passed the parchment back and Rareb filed them in his desk. He then pulled out a jewel-encrusted box, lifting the lid open. Inside laid a ring, and Harry recognised it instantly as the Potter ring.

"Because of you're emancipated, you can become Head of House a bit earlier. Just put it on."

He picked it up from the plush box, studying the heirloom, before slipping it on his finger. Warmth flowed from the ring, family magic feeling his own, before accepting him as the new Lord. He grinned at the goblin in response.

"Now, it's time for the inheritance test. I trust you have good reason for this?" Rareb said, raising an eyebrow.

For the first time, Harry smirked, remembering the goblin's glee the first time upon learning of his mother's blood.

"Oh yes. I seems my mother wasn't as _human_ as most thought she was, and I want to see if it is the truth."

Rareb looked curiously at him, before tapping the parchment in front of him and leaving a ritual knife in front of him.

"Bleed on the parchment, and it will show up in writing."

Harry picked up the knife, and cut his palm, crimson welling at the tip and dripping onto the blank parchment. For a moment nothing happened, then writing scrawled across the paper.

_**Name: **__Harry James Potter_

_**Date of Birth:**__ July 31 1980_

_**Father:**__ James Potter (Deceased)_

_**Mother: **__Lily Evans - Full-blooded Lamia (Deceased) _

_**Status:**__ Half-blood lamia (Blocked)_

_**The Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter**_

Harry smirked at his lamia status as Rareb stared in shock. He seemed to snap awake and he sneered. "Well, it seemed your rumors of your mother's status were true, even if she was blocked like you are now. I'm sure you wish to unblock your own ….status?"

"I'm sure you will be willing to help me with my more pressing health afterwards? Lamia's have a rather ...creative diet."

They stared at one another, before finally the goblin said, "We'll send out your order with the vampires, as you eat the same diet."

"Not quite," Harry drawled. He had gotten used to his new diet. He drank blood, and if he got to the point of starving, he would get the urge to jump just about anyone and eat their flesh as well. As long as he drank blood regularly though, he wouldn't have such issues. In the future, he had gotten pretty close the first few weeks his lamia blood was unblocked. He hadn't been able to get past the idea that he would be living off blood for the rest of his life. After a close call with Hermione sneaking up on him though, he had made himself get used to the idea.

"Right, let's get started. If you would follow me?"

Harry rose from his chair, following Rareb through the door and farther into Gringotts until they got to one of the ritual rooms. Ironically enough, it was the same one he had used years into the future. Black marble coated the entire room, and only candles lit the room. It was dark, and old magic hid in the shadows, waiting to be used.

"Lay down and close your eyes. You'll fall asleep soon after it starts. After it is over, you might feel the need to feed, so we'll have some blood on hand for you to drink afterwards."

Harry merely nodded and laid himself onto the cold marble. He remembered the hunger he had in the future after his lamia blood was unblocked, as if all those years of thirst came upon him at once. He had been close to delirious.

Closing his eyes, he waited for the four other goblins to arrive before letting his mind drift. He didn't even notice when his thoughts turned dark and his mind was muddied with crimson.

A distinct scream that he vaguely knew was probably his, and then darkness shielded his eyes.

* * *

"...Lord Potter? Are you awake, Lord Potter?"

The name rang fuzzily in his head, bouncing off his only thoughts, and then as if he had been diving, his consciousness rose to the surface. He blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to rid himself of the liquid covering them. It was red.

He jolted up, feeling the blood drip freely from his moving limbs as he rose. "I'm alright," He managed, gasping for air.

"That's good. You went into quite a frenzy when your lamia blood ate away at your wizarding blood. You almost attacked us until we could get you more blood."

It was Rareb, and Harry turned slowly to him, his long serpentine body moving with him. With a quick look at his scales and he realized with relief he looked the same.

"I didn't think it would be so bad," Harry said, taking in the sight of the blood speckled goblin. It was true, it hadn't been so terrible in the future.

"No, usually a wizard's body doesn't fight like that. Most of your pain though came from your scar on your forehead. You were bleeding from it profusely."

Ah. That made sense as the time in the future he hadn't had a horcrux in his scar. In this time his lamia blood must have found it a threat and tried to destroy it. It made him wonder what had happened to the piece of Tom Riddle's soul.

"Well, strange things always happen to me," He finally said. He changed his form back to his human legs, covering himself with his robes. He conjured robes from the tatters left on the floor, and with his wand, cast a quick 'Scourgify'. The blood that covered his body was leached from his clothing and he sighed with relief.

"I should probably be going soon. How long has it been since I got here?" He asked.

"A few hours," Rareb said. "I noticed you didn't have a holster for your wand, so I had another bring up one of your family's for you."

This was why Rareb and him had worked so well together in the future. Rareb just knew what he had needed. "Thank you, I was just about to ask you that. I hope my meals will be delivered on time? I know Dumbledore goes through my mail."

The goblin snarled again at the mention of the old wizard's name, but only said, "Of course. Our owls, if needed, can get through even the trickiest of plays. You will get your drink."

Nodding, Harry followed the Goblin as they made their way back to his office.

"Thank you Rareb, may your gold grow abound and your enemies be washed of their blood."

"Same to you, Harry Potter, as it seems we have a common enemy," Rareb said, bowing with a mocking smile. He gave him the same. Dumbledore wasn't gaining any points in either of their books.

When Harry got to Honeydukes, he cast a far stronger disillusionment charm, and with a quick but illegal unlocking spell, he was inside. Just before he was fully inside, he heard the distant call of 'goodnight' from someone who sounded eerily like Bagman, and a response from an older man. Dumbledore. He _had_ been in luck.

He rushed through the tunnel, passing the schools wards and speaking in his head clearly that he wasn't a threat to any of the students or the teachers. He knew Hogwarts would listen, as he knew she was sentient, even though Dumbledore had, years back, bound her.

It made him feel a bit sad, as the school was much more powerful when fully in use of her power, than when she was tied down by Dumbledore's ways, but he knew that the school wouldn't make a sound about his new 'dark creature' status. He was one of her favorites, after all.

Ghosting through the empty corridors, he made it to the Fat Lady, silently thanking the school. He hadn't wanted to run into anyone, but he inwardly cursed when he came to a stop in front of the portrait.

"Well well, who are you? I've never seen you around, but I have to say, you are a boy of rare beauty," The Fat Lady said, practically purring.

Harry only raised an eyebrow, while his mind scanned desperately for the password. Fairy lights? Flibbertigibbet?

"Balderdash?" He said, his voice obviously making it a question.

"Right you are, young man," She crooned, and the painting swung open. He crept in cautiously, stepping over a spilled cup and frowned. There had obviously been a party. Huh.

"Harry?"

A light, feminine voice rose over the silence, and he meet the eyes of a hesitant Hermione.

"Hermione," He said, his voice trilling like a birds. He inwardly flinched as her expression became one of complete shock. He knew what he sounded like, but lamia were created to entice young, handsome, men into getting closer, before transforming into a monster and sucking their blood. His voice was a big part of that trickery.

"You look different, Harry," She said, getting closer. He was struck by how young she looked, her face deviant of lines. No battlescars.

"What do I look like?" He asked, and he was curious. He didn't know what his younger form had taken the lamia blood to, and the only impression he had of it was the Fat Lady's.

"Well, you look ….a bit like a girl I guess?"

He burst into laughter and she seemed more concerned than ever. "Harry, what's going on? This whole nights been really strange and-"

"I know it's a lot. But I'll tell you eventually, okay?" He said, crossing his fingers for her just to accept it. Fortunately, luck seemed to be in his favor, as she simply nodded.

"So what happened around here?" He said, gesturing to the obvious discarded cups and spilled drinks by the corner. Strange moment forgotten, Hermione's nose wrinkled into one of disgust.

"They were celebrating the picking of your name from the Goblet, even though they knew you had nothing to do with it and that you're only in because someone wants you dead!"

At the last words, her voice let up in distress and Harry wanted to smile. Things were going to be different this time. He was going to be perfectly alright.

"It's okay, 'Mione. I'll be fine," He said reassuringly, threading a little lamia magic into his voice. She calmed down slightly and hung her hands.

"Look at this mess they left, and the prefects didn't even want to clean it all up."

He moved closer into the room, and took his wand from its holster. Pressing it to the floor, he spoke, "_Scourgify._"

Cups disappeared, liquid dried from the carpet, food retreated. He flicked his wand over to the haphazard couches, moving them back into their usual places near the fireplace.

He turned back to Hermione. "See, that wasn't so bad," He said, smiling pleasantly.

She continued to stand there, looking lost. Harry took pity on her and said, "Let's get to bed, okay?"

She nodded, blinking back the present. "Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight," He said softly, before going up the stairs to the fourth floor dormitories and once in bed, realized with a twinge of his heart that he missed his little snake friend already. He had been obnoxious and loud and had whined all the time, but he had gotten close to the snake as he could as a lamia to another serpent. Three years with the little bother. Three years that no longer existed.

Well, it was better that way.

* * *

The next morning he awoke by the sound of someone male calling his name. He rose, squinting through his curtains, to find Dean's elated face bouncing around. Breathing through his teeth, he ripped open the bright red curtains and snarled, "Some people are still sleeping!"

They all froze, eyes moving from the top of his head down to his toes. He gave them a look as Seamus's mouth fell open.

"Harry, is that really you?"

Glaring incredulously, he was about to speak when he remembered he no longer looked the same as he had less than twelve hours before. He glanced in the mirror behind Dean, and watched as his brows smoothed out, and his eyes took on the sickly green glow. Pouty lips, his hair no longer a bird's nest, but curly and shiny, forming perfectly around his purely aristocratic face.

"Yeah, it's me," He said simply, sliding from his bed to the showers. He heard an exclamation of surprise from one of them, and an odd breathy noise, before the water turned on and he couldn't hear the rest. He was honestly okay with that. He already knew what he looked like. Not quite a girl, but a very beautiful boy. An impeccable facade hiding the monster within.

When he was finished, he wandered back to his bed, changing into his robes. Hearing a choking sound, and he whipped around, one arm continuing to button his shirt.

Ron stood in the doorway, his expression a repeat of earlier.

"Harry?"

A burst of anger alighted in Harry's stomach, his mind ripping through every memory of the jealous coward. It was all he could do not to transform and leave him rotting. Mercy. He breathed in deeply before replying. "Yes, it's me."

His eyes widened, "Blimey, what happened to you? You look _pretty._"

Harry rolled his eyes, "Not really any of your business," He said, finishing with his robe and leaving the redhead behind. Ignoring the prat probably wasn't going to do much, but he was going to damn well try it out first.

He met Hermione near the doors to the Great Hall, ignoring the gobsmacked stares as he called out, "Hermione, there you are," in his musical voice that didn't fit his previous image. But it sure fit him now. Even Hermione seemed confused for a moment before remembering it was really him.

"Harry, I was about to think you wouldn't show," She announced, giving him a disapproving look.

Ah, how he missed her, even if she wasn't the same. This time he was going to give her a much better life.

Giving her a cheeky grin that quickly faded, he slipped his arm through hers and pulled her away into the Great Hall. More whispers than ever, and when Harry looked up, Dumbledore was watching him. He looked absolutely shocked, but more than that, he looked afraid. Harry opened his mouth, showing his teeth as he smiled. Fine, pearly white, incisors that came to a sharp point. He almost celebrated when the Headmaster flinched. Dumbledore didn't quite know what he had done, after all, he was just being polite. He had smiled, and it _certainly _wasn't meant as a challenge. Turning away, he noticed his friend had led him to their House's table, and he plopped onto the bench next to her.

"So, are you going to tell me why you look that way now?" Hermione demanded, pulling him away from thoughts of revenge and bloodied flesh-

"Huh?" Said Harry, cocking his head slightly. The hunger was already setting in, and he only hoped the Goblins would send him his meal on time. No accidents necessary.

As Hermione huffed a screech interrupted and Harry's head lifted, his eyes catching sight of the falcon; a familiar looking package dangling in it's talons. It seemed confused slightly, no doubt because of Dumbledore's magic, so Harry raised his hand and wiggled his fingers a bit. It caught on, and with swift beats of it's wings, circled around him before it landed neatly on his left arm, its claws cutting into his skin.

"Hey, beautiful," He murmured, and felt the warm liquid as it ran down his arm, staining the sleeves of his robe. He now longer minded his blood, and perhaps something was wrong with him, but he bet on it being fault of his lamia blood. Lamia were twisted. They were not like naga, but monsters whose origins came from a goddess's anger. While he wasn't cursed like his ancestor were, he did have some unusual qualities.

Once again whispers of 'that's an official Gringotts falcon' started. After beating Voldemort the first time though, several hundred eyes on him didn't bother him nearly as much as the first time around. It also helped that he wasn't hated quite so much this time around. Harry was sure some ignorant students still thought of him as a cheater, but they were worth talking to either. He crooned at the falcon again, and the large bird preened under him attentions, Harry lifting the wrapped container from the falcon's grasp.

"Tell Rareb thank you," He said, before picking up a sausage from the plate in front of him and flinging the overcooked meat at its beak. It took off with a flurry of rustling feathers, pushing past the usual crowd of owls that seemed dwarfed in comparison.

Setting the container of blood on the table, he waited for the usual interrogation.

He didn't have to wait long.

"Harry, why was a Gringotts bird here for you?" She said quickly, eyes lit up with curiosity.

"Just a potion I have to take to stay healthier. Getting rid of the damage from the Dursleys. Don't worry about it 'mione," said Harry smoothly, slicing open the package with a sharpened fingernail and removing the brown paper. Inside lied a dark bottle, smoky and covering the dark crimson sloshing from the jarred pull. Harry uncapped it, putting the bottle to his pouty lips and let the blood spill into his mouth. He felt his fangs, already longer than a humans, lengthen eagerly, as if waiting for an artery instead. If he was going to be honest with himself, he wanted that too. Warm, pulsing blood was like ambrosia compared to the stored stuff.

When he had finished, he wiped his mouth quickly, not wanting to leave any evidence, and took out his wand, flicking once and the wand springing forth into his outstretched hand. Immediately, he knew something was wrong. The wand felt strange in his hand, and it gave him the impression of sour milk when he sniffed the air with his enhanced senses. Panic set in quickly, making him glance up at where Dumbledore was sitting, watching him with a pensive expression. Mocking concern.

Harry didn't feel any pull from him though, and the fear that had thrilled him a minute ago calmed. He wasn't the Elder Wand's master.

But that meant something was wrong with his Holly wand instead. It only took him a minute.

He was dark, and his wand was not. Fuck.

"Anything wrong?" Neville said, looking slightly concerned while not wanting to be in the spotlight. It had been a long time since he had seen the stumbling Neville. He had forgotten how full of insecurity he had been. That would have to change.

Harry gave him a small smile, and Neville relaxed slightly, no longer looking as though he was about to run.

"Not really," He said, "Just worried about the Tournament."

"Oh," He replied, nodding his head a bit doggedly.

Running long fingers through his hair, he looked over at Hermione who seemed to be trying to hold herself back from asking anymore questions. His mouth twitched, and he decided to stop her discomfort. "What do you want to know?" He said finally. He knew if it didn't happen now it would only be worse later.

"Well," She said, hesitating. "Last night after you disappeared, you were gone for so long, and then you came back looking like this! And your magic was much better and now you're getting Gringotts birds sending you potions. It's all very strange, I can't help but be interested."

He took one look at her pleading face and swallowed the laugh that threaten to burst out. "After I got out from the Champion's room, it basically said that I was an adult. Now no one said that for sure, but I had a good idea that's what it meant. I snuck out-"

"Harry!" She looked incensed, and he cut her off quickly before she could get another word out.

"I got to Gringotts, and they helped me out a lot. I learned of some things." He picked up his wand again, remembering to vanish the bottle and put up silencing charms. While it wasn't the strongest of spells, he couldn't do much else with an unwilling wand. It also made up his mind whether to sneak out again or not.

"First off, Dumbledore has been hiding things from me. He's been stealing my money illegally, and hiding my inheritance, but that's getting all sorted out. My account manager helped me with my health too. It was a ritual, but this is what I should have looked like without the Dursley's w_onderful_ care."

He peeked out at Hermione's face, and watched as her expression quickly became overwhelmed . "Are you sure? Why would he do that?"

"So I would be the perfect weapon. That's all I am to him, Hermione."

To his horror, she started to tear up. "But why? He always seemed like a nice person and he was stealing money from you and what else?" She stopped.

"Just his overall disgusting behavior. He always has known about the abuse, but he never did anything to stop it. There's other things, but I don't want to talk about it here."

She leaned back, and it was obvious she was trying to wrap her mind around the thing.

"So, then Dumbledore isn't- what if he's the one who put your name in the Goblet!" She hissed.

Harry shook his head, "No it wasn't him. But he set up the traps for the Philosopher's Stone. He wanted me to go against Voldemort. Second year, of course he knew it was a basilisk. He probably even knew about where the Chamber entrance was located, but he didn't do a thing. Last year, he could have gotten Sirius free, hell, he could have gotten him a trial years ago. He just wanted me to grow up abused and wanting someone to save me."

"And that someone would be him," Hermione finished, looking ill, her face pale. Harry nodded. "I'm alright for now. Dumbledore doesn't know I left, but I think he now suspects me a bit. I'm sure he'll send me a note later to 'come right up'." His voice was layered thick with sarcasm, but Hermione thankfully didn't press upon it.

"Now you have to deal with the Tournament as well. Why does this always have to happen to you?"

He smiled slightly, "Trouble finds me."

She sighed, "Oh Harry."

"I have to go out again and get a few things, so can you cover for me?" He said, waiting for her to respond. He didn't know quite how she would take it.

For a moment, disappointment flitted across her face, then she smiled. "Of course I will. I suppose you're going soon?"

"Yeah, I was going to go now, if you don't mind?"

"Okay."

He rose from his seat, ignoring the stares that followed in his wake, and giving Hermione another smile before striding across the room towards the huge doors.

When he got to the Room of Requirement, Harry pulled up the same room as he had used the night before and yelled out, "Diagon Alley!"

He had several things he had to do while there, but first he had to go to Gringotts as he needed to get a bag connecting to his vaults. Then he needed a new wardrobe, and most importantly, a new wand. He hadn't needed to get a darker wand in the future, as he had the Elder Wand. But now without it, his holly and phoenix wand wouldn't work like he wanted it too, and if he tried to force the magic through it, he would probably burn it out, crumbling the feather inside.

He cast a quick Notice-Me-Not charm on his clothing, and tapping the correct bricks with his faulty wand, entering the shopping area free of press for the first time in over seven years. It was amazing that all he needed was a few quick charms, but then, he hadn't killed a Dark Lord for the second time yet. Or perhaps it would never happen this time around.

It was a strange thought.

He quickly bought the type of bag he needed, and was off quickly to Twilfitt and Tattings, casting a small glamour charm on his face and turning his raven hair a muddy reddish color. The woman inside was pleasant enough, but he was glad to be finished when she was over with him. He knew he was beautiful now, but for Merlin's sake she should have kept her hands to herself. Still though, Harry was very glad when he left, wearing red colored robes that took on the color of blood, only slightly darker.

Yes, he had a bit of a problem.

With the owner's promise to send all his clothes when they were ready, he undid the glamour charms and wandered into Ollivanders, where he hoped he could find his next wand. However, if that didn't work, he would have to apparate to Germany, where he knew more exclusive, darker wands were created and bought.

"Harry Potter, eleven inches holly wood, core of a phoenix feather. I was wondering when I would see you again. You've come into your mother's inheritance."

Harry whirled around, meeting the wand maker's misty eyes. His raised hand lowered, the wand being held out to the man. Olivander took it from his outstretched hands, clucking a bit at the damage he had already put upon it.

"Come for a new wand, then?" The man said. Harry nodded, and Ollivander disappeared into the racks of wands, leaving his old wand on the table next to him.

He had just placed it inside his pocket, when the old wand maker came back, boxes towering over his head. Lifting the first wand from its box, Ollivander said, "Eleven and a quarter inches cherry wand, core of a phoenix feather."

He could sense it wasn't for him as the table splintered, and the flashes of color from his wand was a dark, angry red.

"No? How about ten and a half inches aspen wood, core of dragon heartstring."

The second wand wasn't much better. Neither was the third; twelve inches walnut wood, core of a phoenix feather.

On and on they went, the boxes rapidly diminishing until Ollivander paused, looking him over with a serious eye. He wordlessly held out a wand, and when Harry took it from him, power rose and fell inside him, humming quietly. It wasn't perfect, but he could use it very easily.

"Eleven and a half inches yew, core of a dragon heartstring. I see it doesn't quite fit, but if you somehow got your hands on one of these, you would have no trouble using it. Curious, don't you think?"

"No," He said softly, "It really isn't strange at all."

They both had been the same in the beginning, but Harry had Dumbledore changing how he thought about his Uncle and Aunt when he was younger. Tom's thirst for revenge and power was allowed to nurture instead. Both the same, but all together, very different.

Harry handed back the wand, careful not to allow his magic to bind so easily to the wood, and they continued as before. It ended up being one of the last wands he had tried out, but that probably had more to do with the wand maker's own fear of its core then being the last in the pile.

"Twelve and a quarter inches hawthorn wood, core of thestral hair."

Harry had sucked in a breath, wide-eyed at the wand in his hands. His magic caught onto it, sealing his fate to the wand quickly. He really should have known. Only those who had mastered death could use a thestral wand, after all.

"It's strange this would be your second wand, but the answers are hidden behind your many secrets, correct?"

"Thank you for the wand, how much do I owe you?" Harry said, ignoring his last question and holstering his wand. He took out his Gringotts bag.

"The usual, even if the core should not be," The wand maker said. Nodding, he pulled out seven galleons, placing them on the table. When he left the shop, his heart fluttered uncomfortably in his chest. Thestral hair, he really couldn't escape death in the way he had wanted to.

He returned to Hogwarts soon afterwards, keeping the trip to Knockturn for another day. He was only steps into returning when a girl the size of a second year came up to him.

"Professor Dumbledore wants to see you," She said, blushing slightly.

Harry grimaced, taking the note from her. He didn't need to look to know it was the ridiculous password to his office.

"Thank you," He said before heading in the direction of his 'esteemed' Headmaster.

Halfway there a thought struck him.

If Dumbledore was going to waste his time, then he was at least going to make it enjoyable.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR.

Rating: T, maybe later M

Pairing: Lord Voldemort/Harry Potter

AN: Thanks for the reviews! I decided to just go with the same size chapters as I do for my other fic. It'll allow me to update faster, and if I'm going to be honest, I don't really know how to write 13,000 + word chapters and make them interesting at the same time :3

* * *

"Harry, my boy. Come in," Dumbledore said, raising his hands in welcome. Harry bared his teeth slightly at his words, staring distrustfully at the seat in front of him. He could already smell the compliance potions seeping inside the bowl of lemon drops.

"I'm sure you already know what you're here about," The headmaster said, pale eyes twinkling.

Harry fantasied about ripping them out.

"Actually Sir, I don't," he said, falling in the seat, smiling sweetly when the other's expression faltered.

"Well, from your new -forgive me- face and clothing, it seems to me, you went out last night, and earlier today if I'm not mistaken?"

Harry ignored him for a moment, instead letting his eyes wander over his office, Fawkes sleeping, the portraits whispering in excitement. Whether it was because they could tell what he was, or the conversation was destined to be amusement for the dead, he didn't know.

"I did, actually. But it wasn't anything for me to tell you. Thanks to the Goblet, I'm considered an adult by magic, and it allows me the same privileges as the seventh years."

His smile was absolutely hungering, eyes darkened. He _just_ couldn't wait for Dumbledore's answer to that would be. All lies, no doubt.

Just as he thought, the treacherous man clasped his hands together, fixing disappointed eyes down upon him. Harry looked idly back, spinning his old wand in his hand from inside his pocket. Merlin, it all so was pointless. The old man would better make his point soon.

"If that's what you thought... lemon drop?" said Dumbledore suddenly, pushing the bowl closer.

Giving him an incredulous look, he pushed it away. "No thanks. And before you start spinning silly, false tales about me, I know for a fact I'm free to go as long as I don't miss classes, and I'm in the dorm by curfew. Yesterday was simply a special case. Don't lie to me, it wont work. Neither will the potions in those sweets of yours, I'm afraid."

He looked stumped for a moment, but Harry could see the anger rising in the man, and his lamia blood seemed to sing. Get him furious, and it would be enough for him to fall away. As enticing as letting his lamia blood destroy the Professor, he wouldn't. For now at least.

"I see. You don't trust me as well as you used to. Even yesterday, did something happen while you were out?" He said finally.

He was going to enjoy this. "No Professor. You see, I was simply taking advantage of the situation, to get away. Honestly, this is really what I was waiting for. I'm an _abused_ child, but you knew that already, didn't you? Don't think you could keep that incident when I was nine from me forever,_ Professor,_ I don't blindly trust, but _lie._ I've never really trusted you, after all you left me on a doorstep of magic-hating muggles," His lips curled, eyes turning a full black. "In the middle of the night, like milk left out before dawn. I'm not too happy with that," Harry said, and his tone turned into a purr.

He could have acted differently, pretended to be who he was before, but he simply couldn't. Dumbledore would probably be able to see through it quickly enough, and then it would only cause more problems.

This way was more fun anyway.

"Harry-"

He interrupted him, "No, It's Mr. Potter to you. Or Lord Potter, if I'm going to be truthful about my status."

He could almost hear all of Dumbledore's previously set plans crack and shatter beneath the clear blue eyes of the wizened old man. "You went to Gringotts," He managed.

"I was shopping, Headmaster. I can't pay in fame, it wouldn't be _honest_."

Dumbledore flinched, but Harry took that as more of a show than anything. His smile was shark-like now, and he felt ill for anyone who saw it. He felt even worse or anyone who could sense magic that way other creatures could. Poor Fawkes.

Or who knows, maybe the bird disliked his 'master' as much as he did. The phoenix was connected to the school, not to the man.

"I hope you understand, but you have no control over me, except as the Headmaster of the school I attend. I will not be going back to the Dursleys, amusing as it would be to reintroduce the nine and under Harry to them. But they do say personality potions can be faulty sometimes." He fixed a pleasant smile to the man in front him, and practically beamed. "You would know best, of course."

The Headmaster sighed, and he made a show of grimacing as he moved slightly as if from aging pains. Manipulative old bastard.

"Har- Mr. Potter. You were not the kindest child as I'm sure you remember now, and your _family _had no way of defending themselves. It was for the Greater Good." His eyes had turned pleading half-way through, and when he finished with those last words, Harry thought he could celebrate. But instead he made his eyes turn cold, his mouth a flat line.

"I only turned out that way because my _dear family_ hated me just because I had magic, and felt the need to 'beat it out of me'. I was just protecting myself." And now for the kill. Harry was almost ecstatic. "As for the 'greater good', that's curious. Aren't those Grindelwald's words? Quoting your enemies now? Or should it be former lovers? Wouldn't the world find _that_ absolutely marvelous."

One of the many silver instruments shattered, and he was reminded of the time at the end of fifth year. He could suddenly feel Dumbledore's magic filling the room, and he found his half-mad eyes as the Headmaster stood.

"You've gone too far, Mr. Potter. You are but a boy, don't go trifling in affairs too complicated for you to even understand," He hissed. His hapless, grandfatherly mask was utterly forgotten. Harry only raised an eyebrow.

Then Dumbledore's wand was out, and the strong, overbearing magic of the Elder wand overtook him. It pulled at his own and left a message. Mine.

The thought chanted in his mind, but Harry gripped his old wand in response.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, but it would be wiser for you not to remember this conversation, **Obliviate**!"

Seriously? The man _was _batshit insane. He had already been the Master of Death. Fuck that. Dumbledore's magic wasn't going to work on him.

"Mr. Potter, how are you feeling?"

The mask was back, and so was that hateful twinkling. Harry shifted his expression into one of confusion "Professor, were we talking?" He said, his voice suspiciously innocent.

The man nodded, his glasses slipping slightly down his nose. The only sign of his blow up before was that his face was still red. "We just finished, out we go now." He urged him towards the door, and Harry rose from his seat, smiling slightly as if nothing had happened. He made it to the door, opening it slightly before turning. His expression was completely different, and the hungry smile was back. When he spoke, his tone was mocking, high like a child's.

"How cute this was, Professor."

Harry cherished how Dumbledore's eyes widened in horror as realization set in, and he left him standing there, his dreams of reality breaking all over again.

Revenge was such a wonderful thing.

He really should have done it more often.

* * *

"Everything go okay?"

Harry's gaze followed the voice to a bushy mane of red brown hair, half-hidden behind a book. She raised her head as he made it to the opposite chair, plopping into the seat and leaning back as far as he could go, snuggling into the corner.

Harry grinned lazily, trailing his fingers across the cushion. "Oh, it went well. Had a chat with Dumbledore."

Her expression became nervous, "I know, a third year asked about you. Are you okay? Did he do anything to you?"

"Nothing much. Just tried to Obliviate me."

Her eyes widened, "He did what?"

Laughing at her expression, he waved her off. "Don't worry. It obviously didn't work. I said some things that made him angry and he didn't want me to remember him losing it. Actually, it was hilarious," He said, with another laugh.

"But if what you've been saying is true, then pushing him like that is dangerous. Harry, you need to be more careful!"

He couldn't exactly say he was from the future, and after winning a war and becoming an auror, annoying Dumbledore wasn't as dangerous as she thought it was.

"Alright, I won't purposely try to get a rise out of him again," Harry said. His fingers were crossed by his side.

Hermione huffed, "You keep that promise. Have you had lunch yet?"

Human food. Nasty, bland mash. He held back a shiver. "Yes, of course, 'Mione," He lied.

She nodded, looking pleased. That reminded him. Reaching into his new bag, he rummaged through it until he found the lollipops. He unwrapped one, the crinkling bringing Hermione's attention back onto him.

"Is that a blood pop?" She said, her expression disbelieving.

He popped it into his mouth, sucking until some of the flavor made it to his taste buds. They weren't just for vampires, apparently.

"Yes, I like the flavor of them, I found."

She wrinkled her nose, giving him another disbelieving look, before going back to her book. This was why he could always trust Hermione, she took things easily in stride when necessary, although Harry was sure it would come up later.

Ron on the other hand, the most he would do with the spoiled, obnoxious little brat was use him as amusement. His prejudices would be more entertaining to him now than anything. He was worse than Malfoy, he found in the future. But by then, the Malfoy name didn't mean as much, even with none of them in Azkaban. Saving his life, and then testifying at their individual trials, probably helped with that.

He wouldn't lie, the younger Malfoy was still an annoying prick, but he at least wasn't raised a blood traitor.

The rest of the weekend went by without much incident. His clothing and books and everything else he had bought arrived finally, and he was glad he finally had nice clothing to wear, compared to the rags he had worn before. Ron, it seemed, was as jealous of him as he had been last time, ignoring him except to call him derogatory names because of his new appearance.

Harry only wished they were more interesting.

Other than that, he was just fine with the redhead staying away. All of them for that matter; except for the twins. Those two were okay. Percy was a right prat, and the two older brothers he didn't know well enough about to make any assumptions.

It was later that next Monday, when Cedric caught up to him after lunch. He was surprised by the Hogwarts's champion, but then Harry was a better actor than he had been in the first time around.

"You really did change, although I was a bit startled by how much," He joked, eyeing him.

Hiding a smile, he said, "There was no reason not to, anymore. Still have people trying to kill me, no matter how undermeaning I looked."

Cedric grimaced. "It seems everything that happens to you is always hushed up somehow. A sixty foot basilisk?"

At that Harry grinned, wide and showing teeth, "Second year. Fighting against the monster that everyone thought I was in control of," He rolled his eyes, "Although the poor creature was insane, so it really didn't have a choice against the real 'Heir'."

The older boy looked curiously at his words, but didn't say anything else. "See you later?" offered Harry, knowing fully well that their wand weighing was happening in just hours.

"Alight," Cedric said, before hustling off to meet his friends. Hermione joined him soon afterwards, Ron scowling after him. He gave him another one of his wide, toothy smiles, but it was much more sinister, considering his unhidden fangs. The redhead flinched, stumbling and falling into Seamus, who was right behind him. Harry smirked, before turning back to his friend.

"What was he talking to you about?" Hermione said, her expression inquisitive.

"My new looks," He told her smoothly, and she choked, coughing slightly. As if coming to her senses, she glowered at him. "Very funny. Potions?"

"Hours in the same room as Snape," He groaned. He didn't hate the man nearly as much as he threw around, because he knew what the man had sacrificed as his life. But putting all his hatred on an abused young boy that acted as the opposite of his father, and then call him horrible names the way his abusers did, he wasn't too happy with the man, either.

When they made it to the Dungeons, just as before, the Slytherins were all lined up, with certain badges flashing. And he knew they weren't S.P.E.W. badges this time.

"See them, Potter," Malfoy sneered. "You'll like what they do in a moment."

POTTER STINKS!

As the Slytherin's screeched with laughter, Harry let a slight smile pull at his mouth. He suddenly reached forward, grasping the young Malfoy's badge in his hand, and pulled his magic around him.

"What are you doing?" Malfoy demanded angrily, and flushing a bit at the same. Huh. He _knew_ he had been gay. Not that it mattered to him.

"There you go. I think it's better this way," He crooned, leaning back in wait.

Seconds past and then the flip happened; where 'Potter Stinks' had laid, there was now his name and a large heart around it.

Malfoy's face reddened, and a few Slytherin's laughed nervously. He smiled pleasantly back at them, but his eyes were cold. "You like it? I can make the rest of yours like that, if you want."

"How dare you!" Malfoy said, and he took out his wand, his eyes vicious. Harry knew he was just a little embarrassed. With a little wiggle of his fingers, his hawthorn wand flew to his hand, and Hermione watched it in interest. No doubt she didn't recognise it.

"Want to duel, Draco?" He said, twisting his wand idly.

His face only reddened more, and then he was casting. "**Densaugeo**!"

"**Calvorio**," He said boredly, and he twisted his wand towards the blond boy. The spells hit each other in the middle, but unlike the last time, while Hermione was still hit, Harry's spell was much stronger, and made it through to Malfoy anyways. His carefully slicked hair fell from his head in an instant, and every Slytherin froze.

"I think you look better this way, Drakey," Harry teased, his lips curled into a sneer rivaling the other boy's.

The Malfoy heir made a strange sound in his throat, carefully raising a trembling hand to his head, and lightly touching the top. He shrieked when he met bare skin.

He was brought back by Hermione's whimpers. Ron had rushed forward to help her, and it made his mind all the more angry.

"What is going on here?" Said a cold, silky voice. Snape.

The Slytherins instantly gribbled excuses, and Harry sat back calmly, waiting for Snape to stop them. Which he did.

"He _attacked me_!" Draco hissed, trying to hide his bald head, the same way Hermione was attempting to hide her ever growing teeth.

Snape turned, eyebrows raised. Harry stared back, then pointed to Hermione. "He hurt Hermione. Show him." He knew it wouldn't make him do anything, but he had him look anyways.

Like before, Snape just stared at her for a moment before turning back.

Hermione cried out, and hiding her face, she started down the corridor. Harry went after her, stopping her before she could take another step. He could hear Ron making threats in the background to Snape, and rejoiced at the prospect of him having detention alone.

"Hermione, wait. Let go, and I'll help you, alright?" He said softly, and she raised her hands.

He pointed his wand at her growing teeth, and said, "**Reducio**."

They started slowly, then shrunk faster until they were back to normal. Instead of stopping there though, remembering from the time before, he left it keep going for another few seconds until her front teeth were the perfect size. He ended the spell, and smiled at her.

"You okay?" He said, cocking his head to the side.

She nodded, sniffling slightly. "How did you know how to do that?"

"I read about it somewhere," He said smoothly. It was technically the truth, although not fully. In the future, after quitting being an auror, he had thought about becoming a healer, as he had parselmagic, and easy access to blood and excess flesh. But he realized his creature blood could be found out about rather quickly, so he decided against it. But he did know quite a lot about healing now, so it hadn't been all for nothing.

"Let's get back to class, alright?" Harry said, and she nodded.

Being in fourth year potions all over again made him immensely glad he had chosen to be thrown into this time instead of being reborn again. Four extra years of it, not to mention the Dursleys for another ten would have been a lesson for his temper.

It was antidotes that class, and he was quite good at them, as he had obsessively practiced after the love potions incident with the Weasley chit. Merlin, he just wanted to rip Ginny to pieces, but after having a childhood of being force fed lies about being her future husband by her mother, who had also used love potions, he wasn't really surprised. He also had no doubts about Dumbledore being the cause of that, either.

His thoughts were interrupted when a knock on the door startled him. It was Colin Creevey, if he remembered correctly.

"Yes?" Came Snape's surly voice, as he whirled around, his robes billowing. Harry almost laughed at the sight of it.

It really did make him look like a bat.

"Harry Potter supposed to go upstairs. Mr. Bagman wants to see him."

"And he'll-"

Harry rose, effectively cutting him off, "Thank you, Colin. I'm supposed to bring my things as well, right?" His head cocked slightly, like he was watching his prey. Colin squeaked and went red. He nodded rapidly. Harry turned back to Hermione, picking up his things as he did. "See you later?" He whispered.

"Alright," She said back. Her eyes were still a little red from crying.

Once outside, he spoke to the younger boy. "I can go alone from here, I know where I'm going."

Colin started, his eyes downcast, "Are you sure? I mean - I'm supposed..."

"I'm sure," He said firmly. He didn't want to spend anymore time with him than necessary. Sometimes he thought he had been worse than Ginny.

"Okay," The younger boy said, before scurrying off in the opposite direction. Harry sucked in a breath of relief before hurrying through the corridors and up the moving staircase. He caught sight of the other Hogwarts champion, and his pace grew faster. Cedric turned in surprise as he pulled to a slower pace and came to walk next to him.

"Harry," He said.

"Hello, hello!" Harry said cheerfully. He rather liked the older boy, and it had been a pity the boy had died last time. He didn't want it to happen again.

"Do you know what this is all about? I just had one of the younger students come get me."

Harry caught his eye, and said, "It's the 'weighing of the wands', for seeing if your wand is usable for the tasks, and all that," He waved his hand.

Cedric looked thoughtful, "Do you know who's looking at our wands?"

"Ollivander," He said with a grin while the older boy invariably shivered.

"He's a bit creepy," Cedric muttered.

Laughing, Harry pulled Cedric to the side and paused at the door. "Here we are."

"This classroom?" He said, raising an eyebrow.

Harry shrugged, "I don't know either. Krum and Fleur should already be in here, though."

Cedric pulled the door open, and he peaked around the corner, settling when Harry saw the usual crowd.

"Look at that! Both Hogwart's champions - just who we were waiting for," Bagman said heartily, and waved his hand in the direction of an oddly familiar witch. Harry leaned forward, sniffing the air slightly, and then his eyes narrowed. Rita. His expression relaxed suddenly.

"...the expert is upstairs and Rita's here to do a piece for the Daily Prophet." Bagman beamed, and Rita's heavy gaze landed on him. Harry ignored the urge to beat her head into the wall. She was trouble, but he could deal with it. He had the proper ammunition, after all.

"Perhaps I could have a word with the youngest champion, Harry?" Her eyes glittered. Bagman was oblivious. Harry was surprisingly okay with that.

Just like all those years ago, he was dragged into the broom cupboard. She dumped him onto a cardboard box, and then she pawed through her purse until she found that horrid Quick-Quotes Quill.

"Perfect," She said, and then stared deeply into his eyes. Far too long for it to be normal, and Harry inwardly grinned. Lamia charms. One way of insnaring their victims was to have them focus on their eyes, and not however else they transformed.

She snapped out of it suddenly, blinking. "Testing...-"

He cut her off. This interview was going to go _his _way. Not her twisted view of it.

He smiled disarmingly at her, and unknown to even herself, she relaxed. She was a fly in his web. That thought left him in a much better mood.

"Miss Skeeter, before this begins, we are going to have a little chat. Right here." His eyes cooled. "That quill is going to turn everything I say into a lie, and quite frankly, I don't like the sound of that. So I'm going to give you your options for this interview.

I give you a truthful view into my life, just like you wanted, and you don't change any of it, unless you have my permission. If you can do that, you can be my exclusive reporter for anything I want to say for the press. Private interviews, you get everything first. You understand, don't you?

Your second option is that you ignore what I just said, and you twist all my words, and then when the interview comes out, a certain anonymous tip goes to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to tell them about a certain reporter with a certain unregistered animagus form. Beatles aren't really my favorite type of animal, you see." His smile was absolutely predatory as she paled.

"It's exclusive?" She whispered, and her eyes took on a new gleam once she calmed slightly.

"Yes, I'll even have a contract written up, if that's what you want."

"Deal." She didn't even hesitate this time.

Harry smiled widely, not caring to hide his fangs.

"Let's start then. Pick your questions wisely, Miss Skeeter."

By the time Dumbledore finally came to get him, Harry was actually enjoying himself. When Rita wasn't trying to be a lying bint, he found her attempts at manipulating information out of him surprisingly amusing.

'Miss Skeeter. I'll be taking Harry from you." He said cheerfully, but Harry saw his eyes narrow when he realized how calm he seemed.

"Professor, what did I say about my name?" He drawled. The headmaster twitched.

"Right then, out we go!" Rita said, her things already packed into her crocodile bag.

Harry sunk into the same chair as he had the first time, next to Cedric who looked curiously at him. The rest of the teachers and everyone else involved settled into their respective seats, Dumbledore stood up and waved to an older man, who was standing near the window.

"Mr. Ollivander will be checking your wands and making sure they can be used to compete with."

Ollivander stepped closer towards the rest of them and call out, "Could you come up first, Mademoiselle Delacour?"

Harry watched as she flounced up to the older man, her silvery hair twisting around her face. Her allure slid over him like oil on water. A veela allure would never work on a lamia, after all. Both were seductive creatures, both hiding the monstrous being behind a hidden framework of beautiful skin and hair and eyes.

Fleur was no different, but looking at her now, and thinking back to her during the war, he decided in some ways he liked this look better. Her face wasn't pinched with worry, eyes not quite so tired.

But he knew a war was coming nonetheless, and they would be on opposite sides. It made him a bit sad. He had enjoyed her company, but unless he changed her mind on which side was better for her, and her kind, things wouldn't quite be the same.

"Mr. Potter, would you come up?"

The ancient man's craggly voice brought him out of his thoughts, and he strode across the room, and stopped into front of the man, as he had only days before.

"One of mine...only sold days ago," He muttered, raising it in the air. "Twelve and a quarter inches hawthorn wood, core of thestral hair. Quite difficult to get a hair, thestrals are particularly sensitive..."

Dumbledore had stiffened at his words, just as most of the others in the room had. The only movement in the room was Rita's quill's sudden start as it scratched across it's notepad rapidly, and Harry made a note to talk to her later. No need for this sort of thing to get out.

"Did you say _thestral_ hair?" Karkaroff said waspishly, his eyes wide and unblinking.

Ollivander looked up, nodding eagerly now. "One of the hardest wands I've made. Thestral hair in a wand is extremely rare of course." His voice lowered slightly, but they could all still hear him. "And the combination of hawthorn and thestral hair was what really..." He stopped.

With a wave of his arm, unlike the wine fountain as before, bramble erupted from the wand, curling around the wand maker's arm swiftly and blooming at the end with a dark, crimson colored rose. No one dared breath.

Then It turned to ash with another flick of his wand, and it was back Harry's hands, safe from prying eyes.

"Pictures then?" Bagman said, eyes alight. Rita tried not to look so taken with the youngest champion. Which she was, and he almost smirked.

There was the group pictures, and the individual shots. Harry made sure he looked as angelic as possible.

His last pictures had been a mess, with him looking so uncomfortable, he was sure anyone who saw it would feel the same thing.

He had skipped dinner, as he had no reason to attend. Human food just didn't hold the same allure, and he didn't feel any need to vomit it up afterwards.

Harry was sitting in his bed when he got Sirius's owl. It was a pretty barn owl, mixes of golds and chocolate browns in it's halo around it's face. It cooed disrustfully at him, and no doubt it was because it could sense something was off about him. Being a lamia did that; it seemed the only animals comfortable with him were snakes and Hedwig.

Harry finally took the letter from it, and unrolled it with a twist of his fingers. It reminded him of his auror days. He had done so much paperwork. Absolutely horrid.

Shaking his head of the awful thoughts, he scanned the note.

He already knew what was in it, but he was glad for the reminder of which day Sirius would be poking his head through the flames. He snorted at 'Moody taking care of him' and decided he needed to tell Sirius about Dumbledore just to shake things up a bit. Nothing too scandalous; he knew of Sirius's temper, and didn't want him anonymously calling it in.

Just enough to have the man question the headmaster's motives in all his orderly chaos.

* * *

The next few weeks flew by, an endless cycle of boredom that was interrupted only by morning feedings, and short talks to Cedric. He was glad he had chosen to get to know the older boy better, as he was quite smart and interesting to talk to. And handsome, although he was keeping his hands off. Even when he had been trapped in the body of his youth from his former title, he still had the mind of a twenty-plus year old. Lamia blood or not.

Hermione had dove into research for the first task, and he didn't have the heart to tell her it wasn't necessary. Dragons were closely related to serpents, and lamia were snakes in their own right. They could meet halfway.

He was excited to speak to Sirius again, but old grief wormed and clawed its way into him as an unwanted response. It made him a bit nervous for their fire call, but he really did want to see him again. It took all of his control not to walk off and leave to see him. The only real thing keeping him at Hogwarts was that he didn't know where exactly his godfather was. When he saw Sirius though, he was going to tell him to get to his family's house. He would at least be safe there.

It was Hogsmeade weekend, the Saturday before the first task, and Hermione had roped him into coming along. He had grumbled at the idea, but she kept bothering him until he had had enough. At least he had an excuse to go buy blood pops.

This time Harry left the castle without his invisibility cloak, and his first destination was Honeydukes. He slid behind a group of third years, chattering excitedly about their first time into the village. Hermione only huffed at the sight of so many students buying sweets. Harry didn't blame her; it seemed half the school was inside the cramped shop. Sniffing the air slightly once they got inside, he could sense the diluted smell of blood, and smiled widely. Rising on his tiptoes, he searched for the blood-colored candy.

"More of them?" Hermione complained, when he finally found what he had been looking out for and made a beeline for the blood mixed sweets.

He turned, humming cheerfully once he got to the stand of lollipops. "You don't know what you're missing."

She shook her head, turning away and heading in the direction of the more crowded section. "I'll be by the chocolates," She called back.

He bought a few packs of them, the cashier eyeing him strangely. Harry could tell the man was trying not to think too much of it. It was amusing as hell.

Finding Hermione turned out to be harder than he thought and he as he wandered through the shop he bumped into an orange-haired boy who scowled angrily down at him.

"Harry," He growled.

Harry raised an eyebrow, keeping a firm lid on his own anger. "Like I said to Dumbledore, which I'm sure you already know about since you're his little snitch, but if we're not friends, then don't use my name in such a way. It's Potter to you." His eyes were glacier, the green fading to black.

"Why you-" snarled Ron, his wand raising. Then another spell rang out, and the redhead slumped, falling into a chair. Harry looked up sharply, and found the devastated face of his friend.

"Is it true? Was he only friends with us because he was told to?" She whispered.

He edged closer, pulling her away. He paid for her chocolate, and they stepped out into the chilly air.

"In first year, Hagrid didn't give me directions on how to get to platform nine and three quarters, and the Weasley family showed me how to get through it. But why did they go the muggleborn way? They're wizards, and I remember Mrs. Weasley shouting about muggles in a populated place surrounded by muggles. She was put there by Dumbledore. So was our friendship to Ron, as he's been growing up with deluded stories about me being his best friend because Dumbledore needed me to be his unknowing pawn. Ron just wants my fame." He gave a sharp chuckle. "So does Ginny actually, but she's planning on catching it with love potions."

Hermione froze up again, "It's all one big conspiracy, isn't it?" Harry nodded, and pulling out a blood pop, he peeled away the wrapper. He stuck it into his pocket, and sucked on the red colored sweet.

"How long have you known?" Hermione finally said. She fidgeted with her sleeve.

"Not for long, really. But I've been obliviated more times than I can count, so it's a bit of a miracle I pieced anything together."

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

He stopped, and looked straight at her. "Yes, but not for a little longer. I know you like him."

She blushed slightly before her expression became solemn again, peering into the cloudy sky. They stood in silence for a few minutes, not looking at each other. Harry could tell it was effecting her more than she was showing.

"Want to go get a butterbeer?" He offered after a while.

"I think I want just to go back up," Hermione whispered, jerking a hand up at the castle. Harry gave her a small smile. "Alright, that's just fine with me. I got my blood pops, didn't I?"

She hiccuped and it quickly turned into a laugh. "I don't know how you like those things."

Harry shrugged, "Acquired taste?"

She shook her head, "I'm going to go to the-"

"Library," Harry automatically put in, and she glared, looking a bit more herself again.

She huffed, "How did you know I was going to say that?"

Letting out a bark of laughter, he patted her on the shoulder, "Because that's what you always say."

"Not always!"

He gave her a look.

"Let's just go back," Hermione muttered, grabbing his arm, and pulling him along with a sudden start.

That reminded him of another change in the timeline. He hadn't run into Hagrid since they weren't going to the Three Broomsticks, and that meant not seeing the dragons beforehand. While it didn't affect him overall, it had been awhile since he had seen the half-giant, even from in the future. He didn't get to talk to him much during class.

At least he wasn't 'cheating' the way the rest of the champions were.

Except for Cedric.

Harry sighed, and Hermione gave him a searching look. He would have to tell him.

"Everything alright?" She asked.

He waved her away. "Yeah, just thinking about the first task."

"Do you have any idea of what you're going to do?" Harry could almost see the gleam in her eye, and he really didn't want another rant about the importance of research or anything else her brain sprouted in the middle of it. Like S.P.E.W.

So he lied. Really fast.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I do. But since I don't know what I'm up against, I don't have any definite ideas," He said smoothly.

Her eyes narrowed. Harry kept his expression as innocent as possible.

"You're lying, aren't you?"

"No," He said. To his surprise she laughed.

"You're a horrible liar, Harry."

"Only to you, 'Mione," He simpered.

She sighed, "I suppose. Dumbledore would be able to see right through you if you weren't."

"Right to what?" He joked.

"To your black, soulless heart," She said seriously.

Harry burst into laughter. "You feeling better?"

"Was that what this was all about?" She waved him away. "Nevermind. I'm just getting over the idea of one of my ex-friends being a lackey to a manipulative, horrid man with a grandfather facade."

"Want to go get lunch?" He offered.

She blew a hair out of her face, grimacing slightly. "Absolutely."

Harry grinned.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR.

Rating: T, maybe later M

Pairing: Lord Voldemort/Harry Potter

AN: Thanks for the reviews! First task next chapter.

* * *

It was later that night when Harry was curled up in the seat near the fireplace, waiting for Sirius's head to pop into the flames. Because he didn't have the dragon excursion, he could wait in peace instead of rushing through the castle trying to make it back in time.

He was nervous, he hadn't seen his godfather since he had fallen through the veil the first time around, and after going through a summer of grief for the man already, he didn't quite know how to talk to his godfather without crying or something else equally embarrassing. It was moments like these that made him rethink the lamia part of him. His emotions were heightened; anger, blood-lust, grief, love. There was a reason he was an occlumens now, no matter how terrible of one he was.

Harry tapped on the table next to him, his fingers beating in a constant rhythm. He had put a sleeping charm on Ron, so he wouldn't be stumbling upon them again like before. Hermione had already gone to bed.

He was alone, for the first time in what seemed like months.

Sighing, he rolled onto his stomach, watching out through heavy eyelids. He blew his bangs out of his face, grimacing slightly. His hair was back to growing faster than normal again. Memories of his childhood found him, and he smiled slightly at the sight of him with sleek, raven colored curls down to his waist.

It had stopped growing when he was nine, after his personality change and everything else. It must have been the fear and stress that caused it to happen, Dumbledore with his horrible, intrusive magic poking at him.

But now it was back to growing rapidly again, like it had in the future. He had been completely shocked when it had started growing, and he had stood in the mirror, mesmerized by the sight of it. It had been _that _long since it had grown.

Harry had to cut it every morning, though by this time of night, it was half-way down his back again. It he didn't like the look of it so much, it would have become a nuisance very fast.

His thoughts were interrupted by a faint hissing sound of flames, and his eyes fixed to the fireplace. It was hazy at first, the face just a seemingly odd flicker of the light. But then his godfather spoke, sounding uncertain.

"Harry? Is that really you?"

Harry leapt up from his stomach, smiling, his heart thumping heavily in his chest. He felt a crawling in his throat and he swallowed.

"Sirius, you're here! You're really actually here," He babbled, trying to stop himself as his lamia emotions attempted to take over.

Sirius's smile was odd, his eyes foggy, as though he was trapped in old memories. And maybe he was.

"You - I don't know how to explain it, but you remind me more of when you were a baby, pup. It might be the hair…" He trailed off, and Harry snatched up the information eagerly.

"My hair grew like this as a child's?" He asked.

Sirius nodded, "Yes, it gave Lily and James quite a scare. It was quite surprisingfor me to see you last year without, you know-"

"Half-way down my back?" supplied Harry. Sirius gave him another weak smile.

"Yeah. About what I wanted to talk to you about though. How are you doing with all this?"

Harry didn't know how to respond to that. Obviously saying, 'I'm fine!' in a chipper voice would only make it worse, although that's how he felt about the whole thing. The tasks would be even easier than before, and the graveyard would all depend on what his endgame turned out to be.

"I'm alright," He said finally. Sirius didn't look convinced.

"I doubt that," He said, and hesitated. "It would of had to have been someone quite powerful to get your name into that goblet. They're not your friend, either. It would be very easy for you to have an 'accident' while in the tournament. Do you have any idea of what the first task is?"

"Dragons," Harry responded, twisting a curl of ebony hair around his finger. Around and around it swirled, the heated light of the fire flashing of it. His eyes glazed over slightly, as he watched the light pool around his fingers like blo-

"Harry?" His attention snapped back.

"Sorry, spaced out. " He gave his godfather a quick, sheepish smile that disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared. It had been obviously fake.

"Right… Dragons then. There's a spell-"

Before his godfather could speak, Harry stopped him. "Don't worry, I already know what I'm doing. Perfectly safe."

His godfather gave him a disbelieving look. "Are you really alright? You're acting completely different."

Harry tried to backtrack, but ended up shrugging. "I'm going to feed you the same line I've been giving everyone else: I've been pretending to be someone else, but I'm still getting pulled into danger anyways, so I decided to do away with it. What do you think about Dumbledore?"

"He left me rotting in Azkaban for thirteen years," He said instantly, and Harry grinned widely, his eyes glittering.

"Next time we can meet face to face, I'll tell you the whole truth. But it has to be a secret, you can't tell it anyone else. Not even to Remus."

Curiosity and a bit of suspicion clouded Sirius's eyes, but he nodded anyways. "Alright, pup. But it better be the truth."

"Of course," Harry said, then sighed with relief. He had been a bit afraid of the idea of his godfather not accepting. Although he had barely touched the surface of _that,_ yet.

"Listen, I wanted to tell you something else before I go. I've actually broken into a wizarding family's house to use the floo, but I don't have much time left. Karkaroff, the Durmstrang Headmaster, he's a death eater. Or he was at least," Sirius added.

"I know. It wasn't him though, he's a traitor to their 'cause'," Harry said, remembering the paper from all those years ago when they found his body in a shack far up north with the dark mark above it. He hadn't gotten very far, and he wouldn't get far this time either.

'How do you know about that?" Sirius suddenly got a very strange gleam in his eyes. "You know _exactly_ who did it, don't you? Why haven't you told anyone?"

"He's not a threat," Harry said, hesitating slightly before continuing. "He's good for the school, at least till the end. I'm still deciding what I want to do."

"_He's a teacher?_ It's Snivellus, isn't it?" Sirius said hotly, and Harry quickly shook his head, hiding his amusement. "No, it wasn't Snape. And I won't say another word until we can meet. And no," He said, fixing a sharp gaze at the older man, "That does not mean coming to visit me in Hogsmeade. Actually, that's something I want to talk to you about. You're not safe hanging about everywhere. Go to the Black family home. Stay there, I don't care how much you hate it. At least you'll be safe."

Sirius started to argue, but he cut him off. "Please, I don't want to lose you again," He pleaded.

Something in his voice must have got to the man, because he softened slightly.

"Alright pup. I'll play it safe," He said with a sigh.

"Go to Gringotts," Harry insisted, "Claim Lordship. If on some off chance you got caught, your lordship will protect you. You'll get a trial."

Sirius blinked, staring at him, hard. "You're still Harry, but everything about you is different." His voice was low, barely a whisper, but Harry heard it all the same. He had lamia senses, after all.

"I know I seem different," He said. "But I'm back to who I used to be, before something happened when I was younger. I _will _tell you, I promise. Just trust me for a little while."

"Of course I trust you."

There was silence between them for a moment, before Sirius laughed abruptly.

"You know, I swore never to step foot into that house again. My mother will be displeased." He rolled his eyes.

Remembering the screeching portrait, Harry winced slightly. "Just tell her portrait that you made a mistake in trusting Dumbledore, you've escaped Azkaban, and you're going to bring glory to the family again."

"She'll be practically delirious at that," Sirius said, a small smile lighting up his features.

Harry laughed, "I've missed you." _More than you will ever know. _

"Missed you too. I have to go, pup. And yes, I'll go to Gringotts and live out of that horrid house," He said quickly, after noting Harry's narrowing of his eyes.

He relaxed again, "Alright, see you later then."

Sirius gave him another flash of a smile, before his head disappeared from the flames, leaving him alone in the Common Room again.

Sighing, he pulled himself up, stretching his muscles and arching his back like a cat. Two days until the first task. He still needed to talk to Cedric, find a way to get rid of Ron, when he would suddenly want to become friends again. Although, with the way he was going to play, he wasn't sure Ron would _want_ to come back. And that was just fine with him.

He made it upstairs, locking his curtains shut with a powerful charm, and slipping under the thick blankets. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to smile.

Revenge was something he hadn't thought much of, but coming back made everyone very much alive. Dumbledore wasn't the only one he had something against.

And he wasn't going to let a single one go without some form retribution. He swore it.

* * *

It was monday morning, when Harry realized he had no time left to tell Cedric, and it would have to be like before. So when breakfast was nearly over, and the hufflepuff boy left the table with his group of friends and various hanger-ons, Harry followed them out, waiting until they were farther away from the Great Hall. Instead of being a coward like last time though, he simply called out to the boy.

"Cedric, can I talk to you for a moment?" He said, a pleasant smile fixed on his face, but his eyes were on the older boy's friends. Cedric seemed to get it, and with a quiet goodbye, he moved over to where Harry was standing.

"What is it?" Cedric said, curiosity clear in his voice. It wasn't often that Harry went looking for the older boy, but in that the Hufflepuff seemed to just find him. Never the matter that it was half way on purpose, but Cedric never needed to know that.

"Do you have any idea of what the first task is?" He said softly, and Cedric shook his head, looking weary. It was obvious to him that the older boy needed more sleep, and simply for the task to be over.

"It's dragons. The rest of the champions know already because Karkaroff and Maxime both have seen them."

Fear - it was quite evident. The hand that clutched his bag shook slightly. "Are you sure? Why are you telling me this? I mean, we're friends, I guess but-"

"Didn't I tell you I wanted no part of this whole business? This is only putting you on the same pace as the other two," Harry drawled.

Cedric looked up in relief, and was instantly drawn into the vivid jade eyes that were watching him back.

Harry cocked his head slightly without meaning to, and eyed the pumping artery in the other boy's neck. His canines ached, and then he snapped out of it.

"See you later, then?" Harry said in fake cheer, and the other blinked.

"Uh - Yeah. Okay," Cedric said, glancing back to him for a second, before darting off to catch up with his friends. Harry chuckled.

Did he really have the ability to turn straight men gay? Harry knew for a fact Cedric was in love with Cho, although Cho was a two-faced bitch from his own experiences with her. Maybe he should ask Hermione. That would be a party.

"Mr. Potter," A gruff voice said from behind him, and his smile only widened viciously.

He twirled around, halting his grin, and left only a picture of innocence behind.

"Professor," He said, his voice cultured.

"Come with me for a moment, my office," The fake-Moody said, and Harry watched him with interest. When he had still be an auror, or when he went hunting every once in awhile, he often played as another person. But pretending to be a friend of Dumbledore's and the very fear of Death Eater's like while being one yourself? That was perfectly brilliant.

Of course, there were cracks in his guise.

When they arrived at his office, and Harry plopped down into the seat before the desk, he smirked slightly.

"That was a very stupid thing you did back there. Nice but not helping you, Potter."

Harry blinked, twisting his expression into one of confusion. "I'm just making it fair for the three of them. It's not like I'm trying to win or anything."

And there it was; a flicker of anger and annoyance in the other man's single eye.

"You're still in the tournament, like it or not. Sometimes fair isn't always right."

"This was forced on me," Harry shot back.

"The school's looking up to you," The fake ex-auror snapped.

"Is that so, Professor _Moody_." Barty stiffened at the start on his fake-name, and just to see how far he could take it, Harry licked his lips in that odd way the man did when he was anxious or high on blood lust.

His face whitened, blood draining from his face as Harry rose. Eyes darkening, his mouth curving into a predatory smirk.

"Was there any point to this conversation, or did you just drag me in here?" He drawled, all sense of innocence shed to room the collared monster. He moved towards the door and stopped, faking a look of surprise. "Oh, did you want to tell me to 'play to my strengths'? Don't worry, I have plenty of those," He said, practically crooning. Barty was frozen to his seat, but he could see the disguised man slowly reaching for his wand.

"Look, I already know what I'm doing, and no, I don't need_ your_ help."

The man's lips curled into a messy snarl. "Potter, you don't-"

"See you in class," Harry said, giving the man a small, lazy wave as he disappeared into the corridor. He was going to mess with the man every chance he got. He didn't _mind_ the man persay, but Neville was a friend, and his parent's torturer was going to take some heat for it. The only reason he just didn't out him owed partly to fact of why they had tortured them.

It seemed, as he had dug around in the facts, that Bellatrix had been with child when Frank had hit her with a curse that was created just for killing the fetus, and then went on to say that anything that came from her bloodline or her husband's was foul, and should never be born.

Obviously, revenge was going to be taken, and Harry honestly couldn't see why Frank had seen that as a good idea. Cruicoed into an vegitable state was harsh, but then he never should have done it if he hadn't been prepared for _that _outcome.

"Harry! There you are! We have Herbology now, remember?"

It seemed Hermione had tracked him down. Harry gave her a little wave, and her expression grew furious when she realized he was just toying with her.

She had slowly grown used to his new personality, maybe a little weary at first, but she had stayed with him all the same. Just like it had been in the future. It brought a small smile to his face.

"I'm coming," He grumbled as met up with her, her smiling smugly. He didn't know with what, but when it came to Hermione, he really didn't want to know.

Of course, as a friend, he had to anyways.

"Alright. What is it?" He said, sighing. Her expression turned triumphant.

"I've come up with another idea for the first ta-"

"No!" He groaned, his spirit sinking and looked bleakly into his friend's eyes. "No more. I already know what I'm doing."

"But how? You don't know what you're doing yet."

Harry cringed. She grew more suspicious, then it flared into outrage. "You know, _don't you_?"

Shivering at her tone, "Just found out, actually."

Her eyebrows rose. "Really?"

"Really," He said with a calming smile, and her face darkened. Hermione shook her head. "I don't know what to do with you."

"Forgive me?" He said, his smile widening.

"Oh fine," She huffed. "Now let's just get down to the greenhouses before you do something else."

He laughed outright. "Love you too, 'mione."

"Oh honestly," She muttered.

It was after lunch when he was heading up to Divination, when an idea flashed into his mind, and he sped off in the opposite direction.

He had no obvious reason to keep up Divination, or his own personal hell, as he liked to call it.

Harry reached Professor's Mcgonagall's office and knocked on the door three times rapidly.

"Come in," Came her stern, unwavering voice, and he opened the door.

Her face flashed with surprise, then resignation. "Mr. Potter, what have you done now?"

He held back a laugh, and said, "I haven't done anything, actually. I just came here for a scheduling change."

She looked intrigued. "What kind?"

"I'm thinking of taking Ancient Runes instead of Divination. I'm all caught up in everything, and I would be happy to be tested."

She stared at him, hard, seemingly watching for any signs of him lying. She sighed. "Okay, Mr. Potter. I'll have it all set up and you can be tested on the weekend. Are you sure you wish to do this though? With the Tournament you might find it hard to catch up."

He couldn't tell her he was already far ahead of his peers, so he simply smiled and said, "Yes, absolutely. Thank you, Professor." He headed to the door but she stopped him.

"How are you?"

He turned back and met her gaze. "What do you mean?" He asked, even though he knew exactly what she meant.

Professor Mcgonagall placed her glasses down on the desk, and when she spoke, her voice sounded aged. "I know I've never been very generous with my help in Gryffindor. While it doesn't excuse my absence, I will say that being a Head of House, Deputy Headmistress and a teacher doesn't leave me much time for anything. I've always regretted that I didn't listen to you first year."

Harry's eyes softened slightly, "It's not your fault. You shouldn't have to take so many responsibilities, and not listening to me when I was a firstie probably wasn't your fault in any case."

She looked up, "What do you mean by that?"

Harry shrugged, "The whole thing was a set up to coax Voldemort out of hiding, and have me meet him."

She looked suddenly lost. "Albus.…"

"Is not the man you think he is," He interjected. "Goodbye and thank you, Professor."

He left through the door, and didn't look back.

Mcgonagall probably was well acquainted with the spell 'obliviate'. She was the closest to Dumbledore, and probably had happened upon things he didn't wish for her to see. Harry held no anger towards her, besides all the times she hadn't helped him. She never had a choice in the matter.

He made it up to the seventh floor, and walking back and forth three times, the door appeared and he slipped inside. The usual fireplace and floo powder lay to the center, and with an oddly quiet thumping of his heart, he called out, "Godric's Hollow!"

The first thing he noticed that it was cold, the air brittle. Breathing it in deeply, he set out for the cemetery. He felt no desire to see his former home, as it had only become a monument.

He didn't stop when he saw his parents graves either, except to give them a nod and a light touch to his mother's as his lamia blood sang for the other. That last strand of lamia magic, forged between them, it ached for his mother.

He ended up standing in front of three graves, each with a familiar symbol carved into the top.

"Ignotus Peverell," He said with heavy heart. "I don't know what you or your brother's were thinking, making a deal with death. Although, I must say, you would be the smartest out of the three of them. I'm rather proud you're my ancestor, but also afraid."

He was silent for a moment, watching the rustling of the dying leaves wilt away.

"The place where it all began, huh?" He scoffed softly, kicking the ground underneath his feet.

Rage burned in his stomach, and he suddenly wished he could have had a normal childhood, with loving parents and friends and a _home. _But instead he had become jaded and twisted and forced to become a monster. But then, would his lamia blood changed him anyhow? He knew next to nothing about his mother, and by the gods, she could have been anyone under that fiery facade.

Lamia were known for their games, and his mother might have not known what she had even been doing. She had had no idea of her birth, after all.

His father, he loved dearly, he really did. But James had also been a bully, a cruel, schoolyard alpha who even crossed the darker line at times. Sirius was no different, except Black blood sang inside him, and he had spent more time getting women into bed with him, than hurting others.

Remus was a bit of a coward, but he didn't blame the man. He had a caged monster in his head, and it always longed to rip out and tear everyone but its pack to pieces. If the man did all he could to stay away from things that caused him to become furious, then that suited him.

Pettegrew though, he was a sniveling, traitorous _rat. _

He could hardly wait to grab him at the graveyard. And he would; Sirius would get justice. Even worse for the worm, he owed him a life debt, and he had no choice but to go, if Harry told him to.

Harry trailed back through the graveyard, and came across a familiar name. Ariana Dumbledore.

It was in moments such as that, when he wondered at how Albus Dumbledore became what he was. What had truly happened, when Ariana got in the middle of his spat with his lover, Grindelwald, when they had still been young. Who had been the one who cursed her?

Of course, looking at the facts from the future, it had driven Dumbledore into a frenzy. The horcrux cave just made that clearer. He had done it. He had killed his sister, and he couldn't ever take it back.

And Harry understood that. It would have been like if he had been forced to kill Hermione, only worse because Ariana had been helpless with her fragile mind, and Hermione would fight him to the death. Dumbledore killed his sister, alienated his brother, and turned away from his lover. What had he been left with?

There was no such thing as true evil, Harry knew that. He could dislike the eldest Dumbledore for the rest of his life, but in the end, the headmaster thought he was doing the right thing. He was old, and after everything that had happened to him, he had to put down his former lover, then take down a promising student that he felt had turned _'evil'._ Harry knew that Dumbledore did believe in evil though, and that was what forced him to do the things he did. It was a hesitant reason to all the madness, but he could see why Dumbledore used it.

It was easy. And people believed it.

Breathing in the cold, silent air, he focused back on his magic, casting a quick, wandless _tempus._ It was getting late.

Harry apparated back to the gate, his eyes fixed on the giant castle. Was he wrong to act as he did? Was it wrong of him to come back?

It hadn't just been the new, zealous Dark Lord that attempted to hold power over his victims that forced him back into his past. It had been the muggles.

While most of the Britain's Wizarding World became once more transfixed by terror, other countries cut their ties with the non-magicals, as they started to see the signs. Muggles were starting to find them.

It wasn't any kind of friendly introduction, either. A few missing, here and there. A reported fixture into the death of someone tortured, dissected as though looking for their magic.

Wizards were petty, but muggles were disgusting. Absolutely worthless, the lot of them. But the wizarding world was different, and in other countries, much better handled. Britain's wizarding world was backwater, fixed in ancient ideas and rules. It wasn't wrong, but the more muggleborns ripping through their celebrations and magic, the more the purebloods clung to them, like feeble children. Something needed to be done, and Harry knew for a fact that a few other countries already took away magical children from their muggle parents as soon as they could find them. It was safer, and less children died. And many did; as most families that were religious seemed to think them the devil, and tried to dispose of them.

Hermione had been lucky; her parents didn't seem to mind, although from what Harry had seen of them, they were so emotionally cut off from their own child, it did the same thing.

He made it up into the Common Room a few minutes before dinner started, and found Hermione working on an essay, her face buried in a book. He tapped her on the shoulder, watching in amusement as she seemed to rouse from her state.

"Oh Harry, there you are," She said, her eyes lighting up as she snapped her book shut.

Smiling graciously, he leaned against her chair. "Ready to go to dinner?"

"Ready for the tournament?" She shot back.

Harry shook his head, "I'm not in for it to win. Just getting through it so the other champions can have the glory and fame and whatnot."

She sighed, "I know, Harry. I'm just worried for you."

"I'll be fine. Dinner then?"

Nodding, she rose from her chair, putting away her things. Harry waited for her to come back from her dorm, and they left together through the portrait door, ignoring a red-faced Ron. Hermione giggled slightly after they past him.

"He looked really angry, didn't he?" She whispered.

Harry let out a ragged bark of laughter. "I took away his source of money. Not very much, mind you, but he got a little between his mother and sister."

Hermione's expression screwed into one of disgust. "That prat. I can't believe what he's been doing."

He merely hummed, "Dumbledore's minions. At least he's not torturing them."

"WHAT?" She said, her voice shrill.

He winced, "Just something Voldemort would probably do."

They made it down to the Great Hall, and Harry took a seat next to her, across from Neville.

"Hey, Neville," He said, waking the boy from staring into his drink. He blinked, looking up quickly.

"Oh, Harry," He said, a bit hesitant. He fidgeted with the sleeve of his robes, and Harry inwardly cursed. The future Neville was confident, focused, and yet this Neville barely shined at all.

"I was wondering what your wand is made out of," He said directly.

His face displayed pure shock and confusion, much to the annoyance and amusement of Harry.

"I-it's my father's," He managed to get out. Harry knew this already.

He conveyed curiosity quickly, almost as though it hadn't even been there. But insecure or not, Neville was a pureblood and he was brought up to pick up things such as that.

"What is it?" He said finally.

"Well," Harry said stopping for a moment, "It's just, 'the wand picks you', right? Maybe - I don't want to offend you, but it might be that you have trouble with spells not because you're weak, but because your father's wand doesn't match you."

Neville stiffened as he spoke, and the boy said, "I don't know…."

Harry brought out his holly wand under the table, and his hawthorn wand on his other side.

"You have two wands," Neville said, eyes widening, and even Hermione, who had only been idly listening, flew around, staring at him in shock.

"But that's like - practically illegal," Hermione hissed.

"Just watch," He insisted. "This is the wand I used to use," and he wiggled his holly wand.

Taking a blood pop wrapper from his pocket, he placed it on the table, and raised his wand to it. Already, he could feel it's core fighting against him, and hoped it would escape the encounter unscathed.

"**Evanesco**," He whispered, and Neville's eyes widened further in alarm when it gave a squelching sound and the wrapper smoked slightly.

"This is the wand I bought about a month ago. **Evanesco**!"

The wrapper disappeared without a sound, no evidence of it even being there.

"That was very different," Neville murmured, and a strange gleam in his eye told Harry that the future Neville - the one who was confident and never let him down and never gave up - he still lived in this boy.

"Want to go get a new wand?" He said quietly, as he strapped his wands back into their hositers.

Neville looked back up, incredulous. "Now?" He said.

Harry gave him a lopsided grin, "Now. Since in the eyes of magic I'm an adult, thanks to the goblet, I have the same privileges as seventh years."

"But that doesn't count towards me," Neville exclaimed.

"We'll be back before Dumbledore would ever know. Do you want to or not?"

The boy seemed to be at war within himself, but he quickly came to a conclusion.

"Alright, I'll go," He said firmly. Harry's expression brightened, and he turned to Hermione who was already watching them in amusement.

"Right, covering for you. Got it," She said, "Just bring me along next time, okay?"

"Of course," said Harry smoothly, as he pulled away from the bench.

"Meet me on the seventh floor, and I'll make sure it looks as though I'm going to the library."

Neville nodded, and Harry left the boy on the steps. He rushed through the empty corridors, raising a level every once and awhile. He made it up to the seventh floor within five minutes, and found the other boy waiting for him. He paced back and forth between the empty wall, ignoring Neville's strange looks he shot at him, and then the alarm when the door appeared.

"Inside, quickly," He urged, then gave him the bag of floo powder when the door clanged shut and the candles lit the small room.

"What is this place?" Neville said in wonder, and Harry shook his head. "I'll explain later." He took a handful of the grey-green sand, and stepped into the flames, "Diagon Alley!"

It seemed his comings and goings were the usual now to the old bartender, and Tom only chuckled as he waved a hand towards the brick portal. Neville stepped out behind him, and they arrived at Ollivanders in record time.

The old, white-haired man came out from seemingly nowhere, even though Harry had been able to sense him faintly. "Mr. Potter and Mr. Longbottom. I'm sure you're for Mr. Longbottom here?" It wasn't a question.

"Yes, sir," Neville squeaked out, and Harry held back a smile. It seemed Neville hadn't gotten Ollivander's full effect before.

"Very well, come stand over here," He said briskly, and his familiar measuring sticks found their way into his hands.

He watched as Neville was measured, then forced through boxes of wands. Tables cracked, lights exploded, he thought he even saw a couple of the wands he had tried a month ago.

But eventually he found the right one, and Harry could see the relief in his face.

"Thirteen inches cherry wood, with a core of unicorn hair. It fits you rather nicely," Ollivander said.

Neville stroked his wand in reminiscent of how Voldemort had done long ago, and Harry held back a laugh. It had been a rather odd sight to be reminded of. He took out the usual amount of galleons, and placed them on the table. Neville stared in shock, then was about to speak, but Harry stopped him.

"Just think of it as a late birthday gift," He said while smiling, and while the other boy still seemed a bit upset, it looked as though he was going to give up for the moment at least.

"Let's get back to school, then," Neville said.

As they walked through the empty streets, the other boy finally spoke.

"Why did you do this?" He said, his voice oddly empty.

"I didn't do it because I pity you, because I don't," Harry started off sharply, then his voice softened a bit. "Rather, I know what it's like to be constantly modeled by my father's actions in the past, and I know what an unresponsive wand can do to your magic."

"Okay," came his small voice, and Harry laughed once.

"Gain some confidence, Neville. You're a powerful wizard."

There was silence.

"Do you really think so?" Neville said, and something in his voice made Harry stop and turn to the other boy. He caught his gaze, and smiled slightly.

"It's the absolute truth."

* * *

When he rolled into the side of his curtain in the morning, thin streams of blinding light forced through the cracks and left him hissing until he could shut them tight again.

"You alright there, Harry?" He heard Dean shout, and he gave a muffled groan in response.

He thought about skipping classes for a moment until his mind hit noon, and groaned again. Dragons. Right.

Pulling himself out of bed, he tottered sleepily into the showers, and was grateful for the chilling reception he received from the faucet. Cold water seeped into every pore, and he was awake instantly.

Making it down to breakfast, he chatted cheerfully with his dormmates until the usual Gringotts falcon swept into the Great Hall, and dove straight at him. Rubbing it's feathery neck softly, he unwrapped the package, and drank from the bottle, ignoring the usual strange stares. There weren't as many as there used to be, as the bird continued to make an appearance every morning. Even Dumbledore had seemed to give up on trying to get to it before him.

When Hermione finally arrived, she was looking more tense than even he seemed.

Which actually wasn't saying all that much, considering.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" She asked quietly after she finished eating, and he gave her a blinding smile, which she gave him a glare in return.

"None of those fake smiles. That was a real question."

He sighed, "Yeah, I'll be just fine."

She breathed out, "Okay. History of Magic, then?"

He nodded, standing and sliding out of the seat as they made their way to the haunted classroom. It started and ended just as quickly, along with the next. When lunch came around, he drank more of the crimson substance, and wished suddenly that he had gone hunting the night before instead of getting Neville a new wand. It was quickly replaced with anger at himself, but vowed to go hunting in the next night or so.

It made him feel a bit like a vampire, but that was what he would seem to be doing, and in the case he ever got caught, being a powerful vampire and not a lamia was much safer to play as.

"Mr. Potter, it's time," Professor Mcgonagall said, as she drew up to him. Harry nodded, and turned to smile warmly at his friend. Hermione gave him a startled look, before drawing him into a hug. He ignored the loud beating of her common carotid artery, but was relieved all the same when she pulled away.

"Good luck," Hermione called, and he turned slightly.

"Of course," He half-shouted back, before he left through the Great Hall and into the courtyard.

"Are you going to be alright, Mr. Potter?" came his Professor's voice as they walked down the hill into the chilly air, and he looked back at her.

"Yes, I'm going to be fine," He said, and caught sight of the giant tent that held the arena inside. He could already hear the faint roars over the stands - except that they weren't just snarling. Whispers, hidden words that he could hear. The mother dragons were furious.

No wonder his dragon from last time had gotten free.

"The other champions are inside," She said, her voice just one quick jumble of words as she let him inside, and he entered on his own.

Harry quickly caught sight of the other Hogwart's champion, and wandered in Cedric's direction. He was fumbling with his robe, but when he caught sight of the supposed younger boy, his face brightened marginally.

"Harry."

"Cedric," He said, nodding his head as he slowed to stand next to him.

There was silence between them for a moment until Cedric spoke again.

"You ready?" He said quietly, eyeing the other contestants. Harry tried not to grin at his blatant spying.

"Ready."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR.

Rating: T, maybe later M

Warning: Harry has a bit of a mouth.

Pairing: Lord Voldemort/Harry Potter

AN: Thanks for the reviews! I'm going to mess around with the mythology of lamia a bit, so you'll see that in this chapter.

* * *

"It's time to get this all started," Bagman cheered, as he pulled out a familiar drawstring bag from his robes. "Inside is the representations of the dragon you will face, as you will pick the one you pull out." His gaze moved around the small group, stopping on the quarter veela.

"Ladies first, then," He said with a wink, and Harry stopped himself from shaking his head.

Fleur dropped her arm down, her hand slipping to the bag - and pulled out the small dragon from the first time around. A Welsh Green.

Hiding a grin, Harry wondered how they would all take his future performance. He knew fully well he wasn't going to get many points from any of the judges, he was counting on that. And by Merlin, he was going to enjoy every moment on it.

Besides, he had always wanted to speak to a dragon.

Krum pulled out the same Chinese Fireball and Cedic got the Swedish Short-Snout. When Harry reached into the bag, and pulled out the angry Hungarian Horntail, instead of snarling at him, it calmed and rubbed it's body down the length of his arm. He laughed, tickling it's neck with a finger and then stopped when he realized everyone was staring at him.

Shrugging, he spoke, "It's cute."

Clearly not believing him, Bagman rushed to continue. "The number is the order in which you will face them. Now, Mr. Diggory, you're first so just wait until the whistle goes off?" He turned from the older boy, and fixed his eyes on him eagerly. "Mr. Potter-"

"Shouldn't you be at the judge's seating already, Mr. Bagman?" Harry drawled, placing the animated toy dragon on his shoulder, and raised an eyebrow.

The man flushed, turning away, "You're right….yes, I'll be going then."

As the pudgy man stumbled away, Harry was reminded of his uncle, and laughed, high and ringing.

"What do you think he wanted?" A voice said close to his ear, and he jumped, almost knocking into Krum. It was Cedric. Harry flashed him a smile.

"Bagman is betting on me winning, and he probably wanted to 'help' me so he won his money."

"Zat is cheating!" Fleur declared and he nodded, grinning.

"Of course it is, but he's also in debt with the goblins, so he's trying to make money fast."

They all cringed at that. Goblins could be very, very cruel if they wanted to. Which was usually always.

"I can't say I feel too sorry for him, though. It's his fault he went and did it," Cedric said.

"That would be-" There was a mighty blast, and Cedric paled.

"You'll be fine," Harry said, pushing the boy to the flap of the tent. "Just do what you practiced."

"Yeah, thanks," Cedric said, his voice detached. He disappeared, and Harry was left alone with the two other champions.

"Do you zink he'll be okay?" Fleur said, and Harry noticed she was shaking slightly. He offered her a only a smile, knowing his own allure wouldn't help her.

"They have dragon keepers stationed all around the enclosure."

Fleur seemed to calm slightly, and Harry went to sit in one of the chairs left out for them. Soon, a thunderous sound of clapping and yelling came from outside the tent and angry snarling from a dragon who was very much angry about her eggs being mess about with. Then another ringing sound of the whistle, and Fleur walked unsteadily out of the tent after he told her good luck.

"So you really didn't put your name in the Goblet then?"

Victor's low voice carried over to Harry, and he looked up, watching for any kind of suspicion, but only saw curiosity.

"Yes, there's no reason for me to ever want to be in something like this. I don't like fame, but I have plenty of it, I have money, and eternal glory? I have that too, no matter if I really deserve it or not. Which I don't, by the way," Harry chuckled, and leaned back in his seat, looking up at the tent ceiling; great sashes of colorful cloth and beams of wood.

"Vould you vant to be someone else, if you could?"

Harry thought about it, fingers tapping the sides of his chair. Did he wish for his fate not to be what it was? Would he have wished to have been the Master of Death? To be manipulated, to be deceived, all for this new chance? He had killed his younger self in this body, and he would never have the chance. But he would like to think his younger self, if he had been the boy he had been before, would have been just fine with the idea. To get revenge, to take the most important thing back for himself. Freedom. Changing the wizarding world for the better, or die trying, in the most cliche of terms.

"No, I wouldn't," Harry said finally, and Victor gave a thoughtful nod.

"You said you wouldn't be trying to win?" He said and at that Harry's feature's brightened, his lips curling into a grin.

"I spent weeks on this plan, you know," Harry said. "It's going to be so bad, I don't know if the judges could even give me anything."

The other boy laughed and said, "You are not like I expected."

"Most think that when they first meet me, although in the past years it was for very different reasons." Harry stopped, the cries of the crowd rose again, and Victor nodded again.

"Good luck," Harry said cheerfully, patting his toy dragon on the nose, and smiled when a puff of fake fire spit out from her mouth.

"You'll do fine, I think," Victor said, and then lifted the flap up and left him alone.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence that made me feel," Harry muttered, crossing his legs before jumping up, throwing up his arms in a long stretch. He yawned like a cat, muscles pulling and crackling along his spine.

He waited for the telltale signs of the task finishing, and when he heard Bagman yell, "He's got the egg!-"

His heart jumped to his throat.

The sound of the whistle reached him, and he placed the toy dragon on the chair, walking to the open flap of the tent, rising high above his head. Then he was inside the enclosure. There was cheering, both good and bad, but he barely noticed it.

Harry was watching the dragon, who in turn was watching him with interest, but not anger. A muted sort of feeling came over him, the magic of the dragon spreading out towards him, reaching at him. With a flick of his wrist, his wand jumped into his hand, and raising it above his head, he thought the words that thudded heavily in his mind.

A heavy, black smoke shot out from his wand, covering the arena in an unseeing fog. Through Bagman's confused shouting, Harry put up a silencing charm, and then there was a silence.

The fog condensed to the top of the barrier, and he could see again, the dragon mother's head cocked to the side to see him better.

_{I can sssmell you, sssmall human}_She said, her voice a mix between a roar and hiss. _{You sssmell ssstrange though, like family and cursssed blood.}_

He took a step closer, smiling as his eyes turned black, his pupils disappearing under the shadow.

_{Lamia!}_ The dragon hissed, sounding surprised. _{I haven't met another of your kind in a long time.}_

_{You've met another, ancient one?}_ Harry said respectfully. A puff of smoke curled out from her mouth, and giant, yellow eyes met his. It was not unlike what he thought meeting a basilisk straight on would be like.

_{Oh yesss, fun little sssnakelings they were. It wasss a long time ago, and their curssse was much ssstronger than yoursss. Dancing in the watersss of paradissse, I met them when I was ssstill free}._

Harry sucked in a breath, staring wide-eyed at the dragon. _{What do you mean by 'watersss of paradissse? We are sssnakes-}_

_ {Sssea monstersss, lamia child. What did you think you were? Not a naga, I hope. You come from the sssea, much like the sssirensss did, from where the veela originate from.}_

Was everything he knew wrong? _{Ssirensss?}_

The female dragon let out something close to a laugh. Wrapping her tail around herself, she rose above him, mouth open. _{You know nothing, don't you? And I don't have all the anssswersss, young one. If you want them, you mussst find the sirensss. If you can find them, they could tell you everything.}_

Her tail lashed the ground, throwing up patches of earth. She hissed again, speaking.

_{They will know you asss the sssea ssserpentsss, the onesss who fed upon the sssame prey but drink inssstead of eat. They ssstill live far out into the sssea, where all the thingsss the humansss without magic fall in their hard flying machines and the huge floating thingsss.}_

_{The Bermuda Triangle?}_ Harry said in disbelief, but it made sense. Magic disrupted technology, and not many ever came out of that patch of sea when disaster struck. Even if their planes and boats crashed, they could still use lifeboats, but if something came after them first….. sirens who ate them alive.

_{You will go sssee them?}_ The dragon spoke, and Harry nodded unconsciously.

_{Good, now you will tell me why I am here, exactly. Pulled from my home with my unhatched, and thrown in this place.}_

_ {A game ….a trial. I have to take that fake golden egg from you, asss it containsss a clue for the next trial.}_

_ {A fake egg?}_ She hissed angrily, _{Take it away at once!}_

With a another flick of his wand, he retrieved the egg with a simple _accio_, and almost laughed at the sheer stupidity of magicals that they exposed sometimes.

_{Thank you, ancient one. You have given me many new thoughtsss.}_ He nodded respectfully at the dragon, and she bowed her head in exchange.

He led himself away from the she-dragon, and plopped to the ground, leaning against a rock. He still had five or six more minutes until he was the slowest to get his egg. He would just have to wait it out.

Time passed quickly, and when he knew he took the longest, he rose and kept his wand pointed towards the cloudy dome. A sharp, curved arch, and the dark fog was pulled from the sky back into his wand, leaving him standing alone, the egg tucked under his arm.

The crowd was silent for the moment, and Bagman finally spoke. His excitement was invariably dimmed.

"Mr. Potter has his egg!" He cried, and slowly, the crowd clapped until it was a full roar.

"Although, with no knowledge of what he actually did to get it, it will be very hard to score…."

Harry wasn't listening, as he had just come to a realization. The sirens - they were vicious and hungry, but what did that make him? The wizarding world happily pretended they didn't exist, but they did that for lamia as well. And he wanted to know, really understand what he had become. Already, his ideas were thinning and changing. Less of a snake, but more of a sea serpent. But from what the dragon had said, it made him think of all the legends from muggles - the mermaids.

Were they really sirens, or lamia in disguise, when they visited their other cursed cousins? Both legends, on water and on land. What was he, exactly?

An ancient origin of vampires, or related to the sirens themselves? Suddenly, his plans were not changing the wizarding world, not just revenge. But the truth, and the sirens seemed to have it. And maybe vampires had it too.

Harry just didn't have all the pieces yet.

As he made his way back to the second tent, he was pulled inside by a quickly surprised Madam Pomfrey as she realized he hadn't been harmed.

"Mr. Potter, this would be the first time I've seen you without anything wrong. Everything okay?"

He broke free of his thoughts, and managed to smile at the woman.

"Good going, Potter," Barty said gruffly, and Harry suddenly felt the need to toy with the man a bit.

"Thanks, _Moody_," He said, and licked his lips before anyone but him could notice. He chuckled as the scared man's face whitened, but he was already moving away to where he could see Hermione. A very pist off Hermione. Curious, he looked just over her shoulder, and his eyes darkened again when he saw the sight before him.

His traitor ex-friend.

"Ron," He hissed, "You better get out of this tent right now before I _throw you out myself_."

His face twisted into an ugly glare, and Hermione rushed to say, "He just forced his way through-"

"Oh," He said darkly, "I know that. And now he knows to leave." He turned to face the red-headed boy. "I've had to put up with your stupidity for the past three years, and I'm done. Dumbledore's little spy has no need to be here, so get out."

Ron's face just turned redder at that accusation. Jutting forward, his fist swung abruptly at Harry's face.

Of course, it never made it there.

Catching the boy's wrist in his fingers, he then began to crush the bone, not stopping when Ron started to whimper. He only paused when Hermione's hand suddenly rested on his shoulder, and he turned, almost to snarl at her to stay away from his prey.

And then he knew something was wrong.

"Harry, let him go," She whispered, staring at his sinful eyes, not leaving them. He slowly let go, and Ron crumpled, clutching his arm as he darted away and out from the tent.

"Sorry 'bout that," Harry breathed, and her eyes softened.

"Harry, is that you?" called a muted voice from inside the door just next to them. Relieved at the opening, he moved passed Hermione, striding into where Cedric was sitting, propped up in the bed. Half his face was covered in an orange paste. Cedric's eyes widened slightly at his sight.

"You don't look as though anything happened to you," He said, turning to Hermione. "What did he do to get the egg?"

She shrugged, "I don't know, he put up this giant black cloud and no one could hear anything. What did you do, anyways?"

Harry smiled at that, relaxing a bit. "I talked to the dragon for a bit, accioed the egg, and then sat there for a few more minutes."

Cedric's eyes bulged, and even Hermione looked surprised. "What do you mean, 'talk to it'?"

"Parselmouth, remember?" Harry said, and they looked reassured, although Cedric looked a little uncomfortable.

"Yes," He chuckled, "I'm a parselmouth, so that _must_ mean I'm evil!"

The older boy flushed, "Sorry, it's a habit."

His lips twitched. "Don't worry about it. Your reaction was better than most."

"Mr. Potter, come back for your scores," Mcgonagall called suddenly, her head peeking around the door. "There you are, come quickly."

Hermione grabbed onto his arm, looking positively elated.

"You do realize I was trying to get the lowest score possible, right?" He told her. She beamed back.

"I know, it's just - it's so exciting," Hermione said, as she pulled him from the room and to the enclosure opening.

Raised up in the stands, their seat glittering gold, were the five judges.

Madame Maxime went first. Pointing her wand in the air, it seemed she was about to take revenge on the whole 'fourth champion business'. The gleaming streams of light curved into a large five, and just to be annoying, he jumped in the air and said, "Yes!"

While the crowd watched him oddly, Madame Maxime glared down at him, telling of all the things she would have liked to say just then.

And then Mr. Crouch went, a huge, glowing six, and then Dumbledore, who gave him an uneasy smile that he smiled widely back at, and he got a five also.

Bagman, as it seemed, since he couldn't give him a perfect ten, instead went with a eight that had the rest of the judges shooting him looks.

Karkaroff gave him a two.

At Hermione's indignant huff, he pulled her away, and moved back outside the enclosure. Five minutes into her rant, Harry changed course, leaving her behind as he went back into the tent where he knew he had to go first.

The rest of the other champions had arrived, and Bagman was very purposely not looking at him.

"Now, I'm sure all of you are wondering what it is those eggs do. They are a clue, of course, for you to be prepared for the second task - which will take place on the morning of the twenty-fourth, in February. So you have lots of time to sort it all out. Champions, any questions? Good, you can go then!"

As they moved away, Victor called out to him "You really veren't trying, vere you?"

Harry only grinned at the bulgarian boy, picking up the toy dragon from the chair where he had left it, and hustled away to find Hermione wherever she had ended up.

In the end though, it seemed she found him first.

"You just left me," She said, glaring at him reproachfully, like Hedwig often did. With that image in mind, he could help it, and he burst into laughter.

"Sorry," He said, "Just - got reminded of something."

She huffed again, and they started up the long path back to the castle.

One thing didn't change though, as Rita jumped out at them halfway up.

"Harry!" She said, smiling widely at him. "Do you mind-"

"I'm sorry, Rita," He said smoothly, "But I'm afraid this task will stay as one of my secrets."

She looked a bit put out, and it gave him an idea. He had been wanting to save it for later, but he figured he deserved some kind of amusement in reward.

"Why don't you write something about how Dumbledore, as my magical guardian from before this all started, and the headmaster this school, could have stopped the goblet from roping me into this mess?"

"Is that so?" Eyes gleaming, the beetle animagus practically skipped off, and Hermione turned in shock.

"He really could have done that?" She said. "You never told me."

Harry nodded, "Oh yes, he just wants to see me die."

"Harry?" She sounded shocked.

"I'll tell you later," Harry said, stroking the animated dragon on his shoulder, "Let's just get back up to the dorms so I can write to Padfoot. I'm sure he would like to know all about my mysterious performance."

As it happened, when he arrived like before, a party was in full swing, although it wasn't due all that much to him. It was more of an excuse than anything, really.

Still though, the cheers of his dormmates when he came through the door raised his own mood, sparking his blood, and suddenly he was feeling positively elated. The little fireworks that lit up the room zoomed around his head as Fred and George turned up out of nowhere, handing him a butterbeer like in those horrible, teenage muggle movies he sometimes saw from the Dursleys.

"You survived!" The twins sang, snatching up the egg and swinging it around to the thrill of the crowd. Harry was laughing, his mood light and playful, and he wanted to swing around with them, anyone.

He was quickly handed back the egg and then Lee Jordan rushed over, a wicked gleam in his eye as he stared at the egg.

"You going to open it?" He said and Harry's grin dimmed as he groaned internally. It was such a god-awful sound outside of water.

"Of course," He said, setting the egg down, and with a slip of his nails, it opened with a pop. Instantly, the screeching erupted from the mouth, and he snapped it shut, and started laughing.

"That was awful," Seamus started, and then looked over at Dean. "What do you think that was?"

"A banshee-"

"Someone being cursed to death, torture!" Neville said, staring at the egg with a fearful expression.

"Oh no-" Fred said.

"That would be illegal, however-"

"It sounds a bit like-"

"A certain brother of ours-"

"Don't you think?" They finished, and then burst into hysterics. Harry was thinking they had too many butterbeers. Or maybe something a little stronger.

"Mermaids," Harry said idly, causing them all to pause.

"_What_?" Lee Jordan said and Seamus rose to speak.

"Mermaids? Why would you say mermaids?"

"Because that's what their songs sound like out of water," He said, and then pushing past the crowd, he yelled back, "I'll be right back!"

By the time he got back, Neville was a giant, molting canary, and everyone was laughing again. He hadn't been surrounded by that much happiness sinced before the war, except when he went into the muggle part of London. There had just been too many losses, and no one had been exempted from it's horrors, both sides included. Seeing students _children_ happy again like this, it was enough to make him feel better about what he had done. What he was going to do.

It was a few hours later when chaos arrived in the form of an angry but vindictive redhaired traitor, who burst through the door bellowing his name.

"Harry, Harry," He hissed, pulling the people in front of him to the side as he moved to meet him, where he was reclined on a couch, feeding himself roasted chestnuts. He looked up in confusion, and then his eyes narrowed when he realized who it was.

"Oh, have you come to yell at me some more, maybe throw another punch?" Harry said, sitting up. "Although, that probably wouldn't be such a good idea, you know. Wouldn't want to bruise your other wrist too."

Ron reddened, and then the twins appeared, the room settling into a quiet silence as they watched.

"Now what-"

"Do you think you're-"

"-doing Ronniekins?" Fred finished and the younger redhead froze to the spot.

"He's just getting angry after I learned that he's been spying on me for money - my money actually, until recently. Then he see's I survived, and he suddenly wanted to be friends again," Harry said, leaning back, smirking as Ron quickly paled.

"You utter bastard," George snarled, "Is that what's been going on? Maybe I should sic Percy on you - as Mother dear is probably on it too. Who else, Ron? Who else has become a sniveling-"

"Calm bro," Fred said, smiling widely - like a shark. "I'm sure we could whip something up on our own."

"Shut up!" Ron snapped, and then turned to Harry again.

"Dumbledore wants to see you," He said, looking smug.

Harry just raised an eyebrow. "Does he now? Well, why don't you go tell him I'll speak with him tomorrow, when it's not late at night-"

"He thought you might say that, but you're going to pay for this," Ron said, "You're going anyways."

Of course he already knew that, but pissing off Ron was like drinking fresh blood. It was better than ignoring him any day.

Harry made a show of rising slowly, smiling at Hermione's worried expression, and stretched.

"He doesn't have all day," Ron said, snarling, and it was really telling on what kind of human he was.

A lackey. And a very stupid one, at that.

"Alright, I'm going," Harry said. "Raise the alarms if I'm not back within the hour."

It was meant as a joke, but it seemed they took it as more than that, and Harry realized his house was for him, not in service to Dumbledore. One of the reasons they had been so quick to leave him was that they hadn't known him before, Ron keeping them away. But in the past months he talked to everyone, laughed, joked. He was a part of Gryffindor now, even if he shouldn't have been there. He was there more than Ron, who had become more of an outcast.

They might have acted like sheep, but they were still people, and simply knowing them a bit more helped him see that. Harry had become so bitter after the war, seeing everyone wounded and scarred. Things hadn't changed at all after it either, people putting everything under the mat, so to speak.

And that was why he came back, it all boiled down to this. The wizarding world needed to change, but by then it had been too late. The endgame for the Light was to come out to the muggles, and Harry couldn't ever let that almost happen again. That meant the Dark, and it also meant Voldemort.

Tom Riddle.

While he never told anyone, he had seen other things, not just raids and plans and when he got angry. Harry had seen the man happy, laughing even when he planned. He wasn't a complete monster, but he wasn't much of a man, either.

But Harry was a bit of a monster too.

And when they had starting plucking off each of his horcruxes one by one, the man had changed. Those moments when he had been human - Tom disappeared and left behind an angry shell that only caused more war.

He was going to change that though, if Voldemort was willing. If _he_ was willing.

"See you later, then," Fred said, and Harry nodded, leaving Ron behind as he made his way to the portrait door. As he shut it behind him, he heard the yelling start up again, and a moment later, the redhead was thrown out the door, looking not unlike a certain rat he knew.

Choking on a laugh, he left him on the floor, and strode down the corridor, down winding stairs and through the abandoned corridor, until he reached the office. Looking back at the gargoyle, he realized he didn't know that password, and ended up sitting against the wall until Ron showed up.

When he finally showed face, he was puffing air, red faced and just as angry as he had been in the common room. He saw Harry relaxed on the floor, and sneered.

"Think you're so-"

"Just open the fucking door, Ronald," He told him crisply as he got to his feet.

Ron stared open-mouthed at him for a moment, before glowering and speaking the password to the gargoyle. The door opened and the winding staircase rose before them. He pushed past the red haired boy, and moved up the staircase before reaching the door.

"Come in," came Dumbledore's fake, grandfatherly voice, and Harry gritted his teeth. He pulled the door open, letting him and Ron inside.

Dumbledore gestured to the seats in front of him, and while Ron took one immediately, Harry stood in the doorway, eyebrows raised.

"What do you want?" He said bluntly. He wasn't going to put up with Dumbledore's machinations.

"Sit down, Harr-"

"Mr. Potter," Harry hissed. "Now get to the point. I'm missing my party."

The old man put down his glasses carefully, staring him straight in the eyes. Harry sneered back, and looked at his forehead instead when he felt pressure build behind his eyes.

"I'm disappointed that the fame has gotten to you, H- Mr. Potter." Harry rolled his eyes, but it seemed Ron took this as an opening.

"I knew it!" Ron cried out, "You attention seeking prat, I knew you were just pretending."

"Yes, yes," He said dryly, "I'm an attention slut. Get on with it."

There was silence for a moment after he spoke, Ron looking a bit like a fish with his mouth hanging wide open.

"Five points from Gryffindor for your language," Dumbledore said, giving him another disapproving look.

"So, what's this all about?" Harry said, ignoring him.

"I heard about your argument with Mr. Weasley here, and I-"

Harry sighed. Loudly. "I didn't know you cared so much about your student's relationships with one another." His eyes suddenly widened, mocking. "But wait, if it means you lose your spy, then you just have to intercede, am I right?" He flashed the headmaster a charming smile, and leaned against the wall.

"This is how it's going to-"

"I don't like threats, especially made by young children," Dumbledore hissed coldly. Harry sent him a look that was purely condescending.

"And I don't give a damn about anything _you _like or not. Listen up, Professor. We both know obliviates and the like don't work on me, neither do those pesky compulsions. And I have a friend in media, one who likes ruining lives. Miss Skeeter? I'm sure you recognise her. She certainly likes you. The point in all this is that if I wanted to, I could positively _ruin_ you, Headmaster, with just the details of my life alone. It wouldn't cut off your hardcore fans, but that wouldn't be the point. I'm going to take everyone away from you, Dumbledore, if you try anything, anything at all. So watch your words with me," Harry snarled, and fully recognised that his eyes were turning murky again.

He also didn't care.

"You are sounding awfully like another boy I used to know," Dumbledore said, his own eyes raging, no twinkle in sight.

"Who?" Harry said, "Tom?" He laughed. "I don't think so. Tom would have been much more careful about the whole thing. He would have made you annoyed, and it would have lasted for days. Me? We're both going to forget this by the time breakfast is served tomorrow."

"You sound awfully like you know him."

Harry scoffed, "The man who killed my parents? Of course I did, Professor. Revenge is my specialty, as you would do well to remember."

At that, Dumbledore flinched, and Harry smiled widely at him, pupils to thin slits as would-be prey turned predator.

"If that's all, I'll be going," Harry said, and then stopped in the door. "Oh, I should tell you; Rita wanted something juicy to write about for the first task and all, and as my performance is being kept secret for the moment, I put her on something else." He cocked his head. "Just warning you," Harry beamed, before slipping out the door.

His laughs could be heard from two floors down.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR.

Rating: T, maybe later M

Pairing: Lord Voldemort/Harry Potter

AN: A lot of things happen in this chapter, and more huge things happening in the next! Story is going to start picking up after this one.

Thanks for the reviews!

* * *

He could positively kiss Rita.

The front page, decorated in quotes and loud, tall letters created such a wonderful image.

UNWILLING FOURTH CHAMPION - A HOAX? IS DUMBLEDORE THE MAN WE REALLY THINK HE IS?

He couldn't blame the slippery reporter for the first part; he _had_ blackmailed, threatened, and then forced her to only write the truth when it was about him, when making up lies and slandering famous people was the highlight of her life. He understood her small revenge. But he also knew how much of a negative view some of the public still had of him, and those first words would make them pick it up and read it all the more eagerly.

Remembering from the future events, it hadn't taken long for Dumbledore's reputation to come crashing down when he was dead and unable to do anything about it. This time though, the old goat would still be alive and well, and Harry didn't know how it would all play out. He certainly chose to do nothing when the next year had arrived, when he was viewed as delusional. While that would have been nice to see again, he didn't feel the need to go down with him, and Harry had found in the future that he was quite good at the always-deny policy.

"This is wonderful," He said with relish, ignoring the looks he got from around them, and set the paper down onto the table. "I should really buy Rita something."

Hermione screwed her nose up in disgust at the name, her spoon halfway to her mouth. "You're on first-term names with that _woman_?"

"She's very helpful, Hermione - a bit like a carcass eater, picking away at the truth and coming away with something foul. But it's brilliant when it's about someone else, let me tell you," Harry purred.

Hermione just gave him another foul look, before settling back to finish her breakfast. Paying no mind to her usual irritability towards him in the mornings, he took a sip of his own meal, and shivered. It was old.

Blood was not meant to be stored that long; for using for transfusions it was fine, but for drinking…. that was a whole other story.

"She didn't put you in such a bad light, I guess."

Harry raised an eyebrow at Neville, who was slowly becoming more and more confident. It was practically beautiful to see, and he was all the more glad for kickstarting his friend's 'growing up' phase he had had later in the future.

"She wasn't supposed too. In fact, this article is _perfect_," Harry said, grinning. "I need to check something."

Turning towards the front of the Great Hall, he found Dumbledore. He didn't even try to hide his own amusement.

Mcgonagall was snarling at him, and he could almost hear the words she was using. From the headmaster's whitening face, Harry felt the whole thing was a success. Even if it didn't go farther than a few days of nefarious rumors, he would always have the memory of Dumbledore looking utterly helpless from the scottish woman's rage.

_"After looking through the rules of the tournament itself, I found the knowledge of Dumbledore's deceit to be correct. Lord Potter - yes, Lord Potter had been truthful; if Dumbledore had said so, he quote, "Wouldn't be in this mess." After the disruption of the event, he said he had gone straight to claim his inheritance. "I see now I won't be protected by a man who has sworn to protect any and every child to walk through Hogwarts walls. It makes me wonder if we all really are safe." Readers, this tournament has really made do so, and I have no doubt you have as well. Rita Skeeter. _She doesn't seem so bad in this article."

Harry snickered. "I don't think Dumbledore would agree with you."

It showed a lot when Hermione didn't reprimand him for not being polite and simply glared at the man.

He was slowly corrupting his friend. Harry didn't feel too choked up about it.

"I forgot to ask before, but how is Padfoot doing with all this? Has he written you back yet?" Hermione asked quietly.

He shrugged. "I haven't got anything."

A touch of concern brushed her features, softening her expression. "Oh Harry…"

He stared at her, wondering why she was looking at him that way, until he remembered that at fourteen, he would have been very put out at that. Helpless.

"It's okay, he's pretty busy right now," Harry said hastily, not wanting to see such an expression again. He had gotten it a lot in the future, when he had started to draw away from the rest of the Wizarding World, as he researched and partied and _fed-_

"-Harry!"

Jolting from his churning thoughts, Harry blinked a few times, trying to remember what his friend had been saying.

"Right, he's getting his Lordship legalized and fixing up his mother's house, if he's doing what we had talked about."

She bit her lip. "Lordship?"

Harry quickly scanned the table, and when finding other people watching them curiously, he shook his head. "Not here - too many people."

She nodded her head, satisfied for the moment.

"Transfiguration first," Harry muttered under his breath after a while, and wondered how calm Professor Mcgonagall was going to be. She was still ripping into Dumbledore from the staff table, and even Hagrid had taken the coward's way out and kept clear out of her path. Coming from a man that cuddled baby dragons and kept a cerberus named Fluffy, not to mention the skrewts he now kept in his backyard - they were enough to make most turn tail, yet he was afraid of Mcgonagall.

In the future, Harry had often wondered if the scottish woman knew how terrifying she could be, or if she simply _was _that way.

Harry wasn't sure he wanted to know that particular answer.

Vanishing the empty bottle of his breakfast, he slipped from his seat and stretched catlike, showing a thin line of skin as he had opted out of his robes for the morning.

"Ready?" Harry said, when he was finished. He smirked slightly at the sighs he got from the female population who had seen his stretch, and met Hermione's narrowed eyes.

"What?" He asked innocently, tilting his head. "I didn't do anything."

She huffed. "You and your stretches, I swear you do it on purpose just to get that response."

"You wound me, 'Mione. I'm not interested in them, you should know that. You know I only have feelings for you-"

"How much did you drink last night? And for how long into the night?" She said, raising an eyebrow. "Last time I checked I was, quote, "A sister to you. And don't think I don't see you checking out Cedric's arse everytime you're together."

"_What_?" He squeaked, choking on spit. "Hermione!"

She brushed past him, grabbing onto his arm and pulling Harry along with her towards the doors. "Come on, casanova."

"Are you sure you aren't the one who has been drinking?" Harry said, jerking his arm away and rubbing it furiously to get blood back. "You're acting a bit - strange."

"After last night, I realized there was no reason to be so ….timid."

He stopped, staring open-mouthed at her. "You punched Malfoy in the face last year. That isn't exactly _timid_."

Blushing slightly, she turned to face him. "I mean Dumbledore isn't a good man, neither is Malfoy or his father for that matter-"

_Lucius. _Harry smirked again, remembering the man from the future. It had to have been the veela in their blood and being a wizard, but even at thirty-nine, the man had been tasty to look at. Sometimes he had been almost tempted to try-

"Harry," She snapped. "I don't even want to know where your brain went. But as I was saying, I don't want to be that girl that everyone looks over, you know?"

Sensing that she was serious, he nodded. But he couldn't quite help himself. "You aren't going to turn into Lavender and spend hours in the bathroom straightening and then re-curling your hair again each morning, are you?"

She blinked at him. "What? No." Her mouth screwed up into an angry pout, and she slapped him on the arm. "Stop - wait, how do _you _know that?"

Harry made an uncomfortable noise in the back of his throat. "My aunt does it?"

"You are such a liar, I don't know how I didn't notice before." She shook her head, but a small smile pulled at her lips regardless. "I don't just want to be the bookworm."

"Shouldn't you be talking about this to - Ginny?" He cringed at the name, regretting the moment he said it.

She shook her head, giving him a look. "I thought it would be appropriate."

"I'm a _guy_."

"Well…." She trailed off. "I've been noticing where your eyes wander and its-"

Harry threw his hands up in the air, suddenly glad to be alone in the corridor with her. "Obligatory gay friend?"

She bit her lip. "That bad?"

"I'm not gay, I'm bi. I like to keep my options open," Harry admitted finally. "Although, yes, I do tend to find more guys attractive than girls."

She breathed in a sigh of relief. "Thank Merlin. This could have been awkward."

He cleared his throat. "Right, not awkward at all."

"Well, what if you hadn't been?" She suddenly exploded. "What if you were just staring at them - because you were watching their wand movements!"

Harry exploded into coughs, choking on bubbling laughter as she turned beet-red, the words setting in.

"Can we please stop having this conversation. Please," Harry finally begged through his laughter.

She nodded her head stiffly, her face still a cherry color. "That would probably be for the best."

"Right, this is never coming up again."

They both looked at each other, before laughing again.

Oh, how he had missed her.

* * *

The rest of the month continued in relative peace. Like he had thought, the article had been glossed over the next day, but the idea was already set. A few more people were suspicious of the headmaster's motives, and that was really all what Harry wanted.

What didn't manage to work out were the skrewts. The blasted things were still alive and strong; and seemed just as cannibalistic as they had been before. They also seemed to either hate him or wished to eat him, and consequently, he was with the rest of the class inside Hagrid's hut whenever they had to take care of them. Hermione always gave him dirty looks when he did so, but she had seemed to accept it after the six time he did it.

"Honestly Harry, they really aren't that bad," She told him as they walked up the steps back to the castle. "You just have to be quick."

"You don't have them trying to mob you every time you get close enough, now do you?" He muttered. "Bloody creatures."

"I don't get that, why would they do that to you? I mean, literally you get ten feet from them and they lunge at you. It's very strange," She said, wrinkling her nose.

"Well the Boy-Who-Lived can't have everyone liking him, now can he?" Came a snipping voice, and Harry closed his eyes, gritting his teeth. He did not have the patience for the redheaded prat. Fortunately, he was dealt with for him by someone rather unexpected.

"Weasel, haven't you learned your lesson already?" Another responded, and Harry could hear the sneer echoing in Draco's voice.

"Shut up, Malfoy!"

"What, is the poor weasel not even able-"

"Look at them shouting at each other," Harry murmured to Hermione, "The two most immature fourth years, having a go."

"Harry…." She sighed. "Try to behave."

He grinned in response, but did nothing. He would be good. For now.

Back up at the castle, they split up as Hermione drudged up to Arithmancy and Harry to the common room as he had a free period. Ancient Runes thankfully gave him the time off, as it was one of the next day's classes.

He settled onto one of the couches, ignoring the older years who also had the period off, and closed his eyes, relaxing into the warmth of the fire. He wasn't a snake, but he wasn't exactly a fan of cold weather anymore, either. It made him rather sluggish.

He was half-asleep by the time Hermione came in, eyes wide and excited as though she had found something utterly mesmerizing.

"Harry," She said, "Come on, I have to show you something - I can't believe it."

He stared at her for a moment, before sighing and rolling to his feet. "Okay, but it better be worth getting up for."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It is, don't worry."

She led him through the common room and out into the corridor, with a spoken word to the portrait. Farther and farther they went, until they came to a familiar pear. Reaching her hand towards it, Hermione tickled it's top, and the door opened with a faint groan.

"Harry Potter sir!" A pillow-cased shape flew at him from the corner of his eye, and wrapped stick thin arms around his leg.

Dobby. Harry's eyes softened and mouth parting in shock as he stared down at the brave house elf, who had once saved his life.

"Dobby, what are you doing here?" He played along, trying to remember what he had said before. He vaguely remembered this, coming to the kitchens with Hermione and Ron, and keeping to the timeline was important. Or as close as he wished to, as obviously he wasn't playing by Dumbledore's rules again.

"Dobby was traveling, sir, Dobby is a free elf and families - Harry Potter has come back…." The elf trailed off, backing away and staring at Harry's legs if there was something wrong with them. "Harry Potter came back on an important mission and he knows who he is?"

The breath caught in his throat. "How do you know that?" He said hoarsely.

"House elves know things, sir. We can sees you have been touched by death-"

"Harry, what is he talking about?"

He spun around at his friend's voice, alarm filling his mind with whispers. _Make her forget._ _Kill her._

Harry choked, feeling nauseous. Damn his cursed blood. "It's nothing, Hermione. He's just talking about how I stopped pretending to be different than I was. Right Dobby?" He pleaded, and the house elf looked confused for an instant, before nodding eagerly. He almost relaxed when he caught sight of his friend's face.

"You're lying again," Hermione whispered slowly, still staring at him oddly. "It doesn't work on me, your charms."

He closed his eyes for a moment, his form stilling. What could he do? Tell her? Erase her memory - but risk damaging her mind?

"I'm not," He said, opening his eyes, exhaling. "I promise."

Her mouth hardened, looking at him with a bitter expression. "You're still lying, Harry. I know whatever you're hiding is important, so I won't force you to say it, but you can trust me. I won't tell anyone else, and whatever it is-"

"It isn't that I'm worried about you saying anything," He interrupted quietly. "I'm afraid you won't want to have anything to do with me afterwards."

She looked aghast. "I would never that to you. _Never. _And….it can't be that bad, can it?"

_Shall I tell you all my secrets, Hermione?_

Harry flinched at the memory, and settled on a small smile. "I'm not hiding anything. I was lying, like always."

"Harry…." She looked at him almost pitifully, and Harry wished that she was angry with him instead. He had been almost used to it in the future.

"What did you want to show me, anyways?" He said.

Sighing, Hermione crossed her arms and spoke. "Well, I was going to tell you that Dobby's here, but," She fluttered her hand, "You know now."

"Right," He said, his smile frozen to his face. He didn't dare let it go. "Let's just go back up, then. Nice to see again, Dobby."

The elf's eyes started to water. "Great Harry Potter said it was nice to see me again. Harry Potter-"

Harry cringed, not feeling very 'great' at the moment. He felt like a coward. The very thought made him want to bare his teeth; lamia were not _cowards. _

Stepping out from the kitchens, he turned on his heels and left without seeing if Hermione was following. He didn't know which he wanted, either. All he knew was that he wanted out. He needed to get out. Now.

Breathing heavily, he turned away from direction to Gryffindor's rooms, and instead rushed up the moving stairs. Second, third, sixth floors - seventh floor. At the empty wall, he paced almost desperately, rushing the door when it appeared. He was into the green flames with a quick word in seconds.

Where it led him was unexpected.

There had been a wizard living there other than the old destitute family, as he had found years into the future. Pushed out coughing as he inhaled ancient dust, eyes blurred and irritated, he recognised the town outside the window all the same. It was Little Hangleton.

His mouth parted as he left the house, casting a quick disillusionment charm on himself, thankful for his short lived time as an auror. He had no desire to be seen, especially with Voldemort living in the mansion above, and the traitorous rat hovering around somewhere. Still, it seemed it was where he had needed to go, like he had after he had learned of all the betrayals and manipulations his life had turned out to be. Maybe it was because Voldemort never lied to him, or perhaps it was simply because he was reminded of the wizard himself when he came here, but it had quickly become a place to go whenever he felt like fleeing, like his parent's graves often were as well.

_Come to me, Harry. Come to me…..come…._

He could feel it, the stone. Already whispering to him to pick it up. What was Death up to that he wished for this? Did he wish for Harry to be more cursed than he already was? Did he deserve it?

Curious though still, he wandered in the direction of the voice, part of his mind telling him to go back. He didn't want the hollows, he wouldn't - but did Death?

"You can't make me do it," He whispered to the empty air and the voice only got louder.

Coming to a stop in the middle of the road, Harry wrapped his arms around his sides. He had forgotten to bring his coat, and he was afraid not of the being itself, but of temptation.

Eyes slightly glazed, he swung around, finding the decrepit house that had sometimes haunted him in dreams. Never nightmares though, those were for the wounded, when he watched Sirius fall through the veil, when he saw Fred with dead eyes, and afterwards George's cold, mournful sighs, as if the life had been sucked out of him instead.

Harry started forward hurriedly, wanting his thoughts gone, only to hear a familiar hissing.

_{Lamia. What pressessss on your mind?}_

It was a bright colored snake, no thicker than his arm, yet the sight of it calmed him at once.

_{Greetingsss.}_ He hissed back. _{Do you hunt around here?}_

_{Not before.} _It flicked its tail. _{Then the big sssnake came from the human's nessst and I've been forced down here. It'sss not so bad though.}_

He had almost forgotten about Nagini. _{I see. Good huntingsss then.}_

_ {And you, sssnake lord.}_

Stepping past it, Harry made his way into the small shack, ransacked with age and miscare, the hanging snake still nailed to the door; it would never change. Dark magic pressed at his senses, and the musky smell of death burned his throat. It was here.

_{Where are you?}_ Harry hissed, eyes turning black as tar. More powerful than any spell, more manipulative than Riddle's horcrux, passing his mind's defenses as if they were nothing but air - death itself.

In the back of the hut, the fireplace lay covered in soot. And sealed inside a hidden brick, the ring cried. His breathing stilted as Harry stepped closer, desperately trying not to touch it.

_{Nothing but power.} _He whispered, and the faint parseltongue rumbled the stones, causing one to crack open. It laid inside, black and obsidian, more seductive than ever. Tom's snake-tongued spells opened to him, and he was safe to touch it. But did he dare; was he going to break that promise he had made, only months ago?

_Pick it up…..it's your heritage… legacy….collect the rest…._

Harry jumped back, eyes widening and heart pounding uncomfortably in his chest. He suddenly wondered why he had come at all. He should have known something like this would happen. His luck was very uneven, after all. He seemed to have it every year only once, and his was already used up.

_What are you afraid of….Master…._

"Stop it," Harry snapped. "I'm not going to-"

He paused. Something in what the voice said struck him. _Master._ His legacy. Was he really not going to be able to do it? To keep himself to claiming them again?

He never probably had a choice to begin with. But that meant Death had already known all along.

Sucking in a breath, Harry nearly closed his eyes, steadying himself against the wall. He watched the ring, staring at what was probably to be his fate. Had the prophecy always been about this, never to create a saviour, but something else entirely?

Looking back on his family line, Harry wondered at when they had gone light. Once powerful necromancers, enough to bring Death itself forward. But why create the objects in the first place, to give someone that power, unless ….unless Death _did_ want it?

"Just accept it, soon-to-be Master," A voice mockingly crooned from behind, and Harry swung around to find nothing but empty air. He was playing games, Death was. While he wasn't arrogant enough to think he would win, lamia _he_ always had the overwhelming need to. Harry was good at winning mortal games. What would it be like, to fight an immortal?

"I knew you had it in you, lamia or not. Too curious for your own good, human's are. But to figure it out so quickly, I must say, I'm impressed. Well for a mortal, anyway."

Harry didn't turn around this time, only continued to watch the ring. He technically still had a choice; take it now or leave the ring inside the hut. He always had choices. But what if the other choice wasn't enough?

"Why would you want this?" Harry's voice hardened when he finally spoke, nails biting into his palm. Trying to keep calm.

A light chuckle sounded, "Ask me when you have all three."

His mouth curled into a snarl but it was already gone. Harry knew he wouldn't hear it again in the house. If he truly wanted to know, he would need the ring, and the wand Dumbledore clung to. Only then, would the truth come out. Death had done what it had come for, he was certain.

With unshaking fingers, Harry took the ring from it's place on inside the stone, marveling at the heat that ran up his arm as it accepted him again. He had forgotten what it had felt like, in his hands. From in the future, when he had walked to his death, to the moment he spoke the deadly spell that brought him back, it had been his. And it was again, but with a new addition.

"And what should I do with you?" Harry murmured to the ring, feeling the dark magic,_ the horcrux_ caress his skin. For whatever reason, the soulpiece seemed to like him, and the thought strangely enough made him want to laugh. In the future, they had always been better mannered in his grasp than Hermione or Ron, more possessive of him than causing him to become angry. But now it seemed practically tame, pressing into his own magic and starting to suck-

"Oh, none of that," Harry chuckled, cutting the horcrux off. He had no desire to set another piece of Riddle onto the playing field. One was enough, as it was.

It was then he realized something had changed, when slipping on the ring, choked emotions loosened, and Harry felt lighter than before. It was very different than it had been. Better than when it was just the stone, the horcrux already destroyed.

But what if Merlin's name did that make him out to be? He wasn't one of the man's pet servants, and while the man's magic was absolutely _delicious_, it wasn't enough. Something else was making him feel that way.

More than content to figure it out later, Harry looked over the shack one last time, cleaning up the destroyed brick with a flick of his wand, and leaving the place with a loud crack.

Like death, it seemed he had what he came for. A scarce thought that Harry tried to accept, to taste it on the tip of his tongue. He had only one left, before he was trapped in an immortal life once more.

Strangely, the thought didn't bother him nearly as much as it should have. Maybe he was being foolish, but he felt that he had found the right pathway again. He had fallen off it after killing Voldemort, lost without any knowledge. But he was doing something right, or at least what fate wanted of him. He got a chance few rarely did, and while he was bitter about his life at moments, he wasn't anymore angry at fate then anyone else. It would be ridiculous and unfulfilling, regardless.

Opening up Hogwart's gates, he greeted the wards with a calm thought, and continued up the stone steps that winded itself up to the huge castle. It seemed he had missed dinner, but he paid it no mind, knowing the Gringotts bird would find him eventually. First he had to find his friend, and apologize. Hermione deserved that, at the very least.

He found her in the library, as he thought he would, hidden behind the back of a book.

"Hermione," He said softly, "I'm back."

She didn't look up. "Is that so?"

"I'm sorry I ran off, but I got upset-"

The book slammed shut to the table. "About what, exactly?" She hissed. "I thought it was 'all a lie, like always."

He cringed slightly at her tone, but pushed forward. "I'm really sorry."

"It's not that I'm angry about you keeping secrets, but because you disappeared and I couldn't find you anywhere. Do you know how much that scared me?"

He did know. It had happened before, a mirror conversation, years into the future. It had opened his eyes then, and he suddenly realized he needed it now as well.

"I didn't know - I forgot people care, you know?"

She stilled, eyes widening as she took in his words. "Harry?"

"My parents loved me, sure, but the Dursley's didn't. And Ron betrayed me, as is Dumbledore. I don't always remember that people worry about me," He took a breath, forcing his fear to quell for the moment. "Love really isn't ….something I know about."

"Oh Merlin," She whispered, and he was frightened to see tears starting to slid down her cheeks. He reached out, brushing them from her skin. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you upset."

"Stop, Harry. " She said quietly. "I'm fine, really. Just - just promise me something, alright?"

He nodded his head.

"If you absolutely have to leave, don't just go missing, please. Just tell someone, okay?"

"I will," Harry said, "I promise."

She nodded shakily, before jumping to her feet and hugging him tightly. "You big idiot, don't do that ever again. And you know I care, right? You know I love you?"

His jaw tightened slightly before relaxing as his eyes lost color. "I know. You're probably the only one left who does."

There was a tense silence suddenly."You have Sirius too, Harry. Never forget that."

He froze, as his mind connected that thought. For an instant, it seemed, he had forgotten.

"Right," He echoed. "Sirius too."

If his voice sounded a little shaky, she said nothing on it, just held him tighter.

"Let's get back," She said finally, after a few minutes and he complied. Down the winding staircases, they were almost to the wing of the common room entrance, when Harry stopped as the Gringotts bird had found him. He gave it a pat, before sticking the bottle in his pocket. Hermione didn't even blink. It seemed she was used to it now.

"You're Harry Potter," A whimsy voice suddenly whispered, causing Hermione to jump and Harry to pause mid-step, something akin to warmth filling him. He recognised that voice.

"And you're Luna, aren't you?" He said with a slight smile, trying to hold the rest of it back. He had missed her also, but in the chaos of the last months, he had forgotten to find her. But he had a feeling about this meeting. Not exactly bad, but not what he was going to expect.

"Oh yes. The nargles told me you'd be wandering about here," She said, twisting a wand through her fingers, her butterbeer capped necklace glittering in the dark of the moon. She had the same pale colored hair and tiny pixie frame, and her shoes were missing.

"Nargles?" Hermione said, finding herself as she gave the other girl a piercing look. "I've never heard of them."

"Yes, I didn't think you would. They're actually quite common-"

"Right," said Harry hastily, not wanting an argument to start. He had seen it all too often before.

"You're covered in dust, Harry Potter. It's golden and very pretty ….although there's something dark underneath it. It's a bit like what my - mother looked like afterwards."

Something about her eyes stopped Harry from speaking. They had become flimsy and unseeing almost, as if she were looking through different pupils.

"Yes, I would think so," He said honestly, because he knew not to lie. Whatever Luna had in her blood, made her very powerful, but he didn't understand what it was. She was definitely a seer of a sort, but there was something more. He wasn't surprised she knew, as she had known what he was going to do in future. And she knew now as well.

"Harry," Hermione said softly, and Harry turned liquid black eyes towards her. He knew suddenly and abruptly that he needed to tell her. He had to trust again.

"It'll be alright, she'll understand," Luna half-sang, and she gave them a little wave, and continued on her way down the corridor. They were alone. And maybe it was going to be okay.

"C'mon," He started cheerfully, but his smile slipped when he found Hermione's expression.

"It's alright, I'm going to tell you everything. Just follow me."

"You promise?" Hermione said, looking a bit insecure. He simply nodded, lips pressed together in a flat line.

"Yeah, I do. Don't get lost," He said, before setting off for the seventh floor.

Harry had a suspicion they would be there for awhile.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR.

Rating: T, maybe later M

Pairing: Lord Voldemort/Harry Potter

AN:

Thanks for the reviews!

Warnings: Mild crack if you look at it right (I couldn't help myself) but Tom Riddle starts to make a bit of an entrance. :p Hermione might be a little ooc.

* * *

He led Hermione inside the Come and Go Room, built in the form of one of his former lover's penthouse. While the man hadn't been anymore than a casual shag, he had been rich and had a good sense for fixing up places. Or rather, he would be.

"Where are we?" Was the first thing his bushy-haired friend asked, and Harry gave her an awkward sort of smile.

"That would be too complicated to answer at the moment," He said, plopping into the familiar couch he had once laid for hours on. Hermione took a hesitant seat in the loveseat across from him, and let her eyes wander through the pleasant setup. He barely looked past her, as it brought back too many memories that would probably never happen again. It was one part of the timeline that wouldn't be repeating.

"So what does this all mean?"

His attention turned to her, and he leaned back into the plush fabric, letting out a soft sigh.

"I don't know if I would have ever told you, Hermione. But I think this is better though, anyways."

She jolted up, her eyes flashing. "You-"

He held up a hand, and Hermione slowed, lowering herself back into the seat. Taking a deep breath, he readied himself, taking in a surprising comfort from the warmth of the ring. Although whether it was the stone, or the horcrux, he didn't know. He didn't think he wanted that answer quite yet either. He had too much to deal with already.

"At the end of this year, I would have been whisked away to a graveyard and have my blood forcibly taken from me. Voldemort would rise again in a new body, and take to hiding for a year. During that time, a ministry official would teach here, and from Fudge's stupidity, have us under her thumb. She would torture many students with something called a blood quill, but be driven away for a bit after running into some centaurs and insulting them."

Hermione's eyes widened further as he spoke, and by the end, she had stilled, staring at him as if he had sprouted a tail. If she only knew.

"Harry, bu-"

"I would be sent a vision from Voldemort and a few of us, including you, would run to the Department of Mysteries, where we would learn it was all just a trap. Sirius would die, I would be possessed, and- " He gave a half-bitter chuckle, "-I cast my first unforgivable curse."

"Sometimes this year, it's seemed as though sometimes you've forgotten about him. Li-like he's been dead, not just gone."

It was said so quietly, Harry could barely hear her. He only nodded.

"Dumbledore got sick, he dies, and left us alone, to fend against Voldemort. For an entire year we traveled, destroying certain objects in order to defeat Voldemort. When it was all over, many of us were dead, but I thought everything was going to be okay. But it wasn't, Hermione, it was just the start of something worse."

"You didn't, it would be much too risky. Just last year, Harry," She whispered, and Harry could see her mind whirling. His friend was beginning to understand. He pressed on.

"There was something else happening as well, though. During that trip, Dumbledore was also putting me on a different path, but not the one he would have expected the outcome of. There are three objects in this world, Hermione, that exist because of Death. The wand, the stone, and the cloak. The Deathly Hallows."

"I've never heard of them," She said, confused, her voice stilted.

"It's been said that if there is an owner of all three, then they are the Master of Death. No one has ever had all three in their possession at once, though. I didn't even know that full story, until later. But that wasn't what truly started this, it was all because of a snake I found while getting some fresh air. A small, insignificant snake, Hermione. That's all that it took for my world to come crashing down.

I shouldn't have been able to speak parseltongue anymore, that should have gone with Voldemort. So that had either meant he was somehow still alive - or there was something strange going on with me."

"So you had to figure it out, right?"said Hermione. "Just like always."

She laughed, but nothing was funny about it. His lips pressed together.

"Lily, my mother, it seems that she wasn't human at all."

There was a silence in the room, after he spoke. Neither dared breathe.

"Of all the things I had been expecting…." She trailed off.

"Do you know what a lamia is?"

Her eyes widened. "Cursed blood."

Harry's lips curved. "Exactly, cursed blood. Fortunately for her, it was sealed off."

"But not for you."

His expression almost became cruel. "No, not anymore."

Hermione bit her lip after a moment, clasping her hands together. "So you came back - why? To seek revenge?"

Startling her, Harry started to laugh. "That isn't the main reason, but it is a part of it. The truth is, the Wizarding World was about to fall apart, and I had no choice but to go backwards."

"_What?"_

"The muggles were starting to find us, Hermione, and most of them didn't like us much. Most thought it was another Dark Lord, and maybe there was one as well, but they were nothing in comparison. I know your parents are muggles, and I know they are good people and you love them-"

"They can hardly look at me, Harry."

He stopped. It was his turn to be surprised. She laughed again. It was just as bitter.

"I'm still their daughter, but magic scares them. Over the summer's I hardly choose to stay there for a reason. I know what muggles could do to us, with their technology. You don't have to try to convince me."

Hermione had never told him that. Never in the future. Had she been pretending to herself?

"I never told you, did I? In the future?"

He slowly shook his head.

"I doubt I would have, I don't like thinking that way. They'll always be my parents, so I try not to blame them, but sometimes it's just too much, you know?"

He did know. He thought of the Dursley's, spineless and cruel. He thought of when he had been younger, and when he had wrecked havoc on them in return.

Harry wasn't sure Hermione was ready for that, though.

"My entire personality had been changed, when I was younger. I was being dosed regularly with love potions keyed to Ginny. Most of my magic was bound, along with my lamia inheritance. And it was all because of Dumbledore,whose endgame was all to do with the muggles, like his betrayed lover Grindelwald's plan had been."

"The Dark Lord?"

He smirked, "It all makes more sense now, doesn't it?"

Hermione sat back, staring at him with incredulity. "Dumbledore wants to rule over them?"

Chuckling, Harry shook his head. "I have no idea what he wants to do with them, but it's nothing good. Muggles are best to be simply left alone."

"So you came back to try and stop this from all happening?"

He nodded. "Then what were you doing before you came back here, and how?" Hermione asked.

He cringed at that. Her eyes narrowed. "What_ were _you doing?"

Harry licked his lips. "Lamia, are very, uh, sexual creatures when they aren't controlled by ….bloodlust. There was a good few months -years- that I mostly partied."

"And shagged?"

Harry cringed again. It sounded horrible like that. He slowly nodded. "I was definitely a bit of a slut, I guess you could say. And not in a good way. I was building my tolerance for blood and the urge I had to-"

"To destroy everything," Hermione whispered. "I've read about it. It's called cursed blood for a reason, right?"

He couldn't help himself. Harry's lips curved. "It was absolutely _wonderful_," He purred, eyes turning alien and dark.

Hermione jolted, and Harry could hear her breath hitch. "What does it feel like?"

Against her morality, it seemed curiosity ruled out.

"You can lose yourself in the emotions, and then it's just flesh and lust and the beating of another's heart that you seek out. It's not about love, or anything heartfelt. It's dark, but the curse is so diluted that if you learn to control it, you can practically do anything."

"And you did?"

"I had Voldemort whispering in my mind for months, I already had practice."

There was silence for a moment.

"Where was I?" She finally said.

Harry smiled, almost wistfully. "Researching, caring for your daughter. You had a child, and I wasn't around much, especially after finding out about the love potions. And then I lost myself, and we didn't drift apart but - we just weren't so close anymore."

She sucked in a breath. "What was her name?"

"Rose."

Hermione smiled, sadly. "And it will never happen now, will it?"

"Timelines are tricky."

She nodded, remembering herself. Harry was sure they would return to that subject though, one day. "So how did you return here, to this time?"

"I was the Master of Death. I couldn't die, but instead if I was wearing all three objects, could seek out Death itself. And it sent me back."

She gaped. "_The Master of Death_? I thought you were just going on about something else."

Shaking his head, he let out a mirthful laugh. "Nope, I wasn't aging, nor could I die. Injuries of every and any form healed very quickly. I was everything Voldemort wanted to be, actually. Isn't that ironic?"

"You've been making it sound like you aren't anymore."

He leaned back, sighing as memories of the past day made themselves startlingly clear.

"I'm not - not technically. I don't own all three objects, although they all seem to recognise me as such, but I'm not trapped by that curse." He laughed. "My invisibility cloak? That's one of them."

"That's a Hollow?"

"Death's own cloak," He snorted. "Ridiculous thing to give up, but I'm not complaining."

She bit her lip. "What's the other two, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Dumbledore's wand, and, well, this," Harry admitted, waving his hand in front of her.

Hermione's eyes bulged. "The ring?"

"The stone, actually," Harry admitted. "It can rip spirits out of the afterlife and bring them here for as long as I have power over it. Although their bodies are a bit like a ghosts, and if they're here for too long, they aren't incredibly happy about it."

She hesitantly reached for it, but just as she was about to touch it, Hermione snatched her hand away from it.

"What?" Harry said, and she stared at him oddly.

"I don't know what it is, but something about it seems really off," She said, looking concerned.

Harry looked down at the ring, and suddenly could almost hear something ….hissing. He understood in an instant.

"It's also one of the things that keeps Voldemort alive at the moment, actually," Harry said, then cringed on instinct.

She reacted just like Harry had expected. "Then why do you have it on you, Harry! It could be dangerous."

Unconsciously, he ran his finger over it, and it's magic eagerly purred in response. Harry hastily removed his hand. There was something seriously wrong with it.

"It's fine. They never have hurt me before - except for the diary actually, now that I think about it. But when we were hunting them down, I usually kept them on me because they wouldn't try to control me in the way they did to you or Ron."

"What are they?" She breathed.

"Horcruxes. Pieces of Tom Riddle's soul, split into pieces."

"Holy mother of Merlin," Hermione said, coughing. "And they _like_ you?"

He froze at that. "Yes?" Harry stared down at the ring again. "That's weird, isn't it?"

"Something's not right, Harry. You vanquished one of their pieces, and killed another, is it? With the diary? It shouldn't _like_ you."

"I know that," He snapped. "But they've always been like-"

He stopped as something overwhelmed him, an emotion he couldn't quite understand but knew unconditionally. Something rose from the ring, dark and tall and _handsome_, chocolate curls and grey eyes flecked with red, and then warm, perfect lips pressed against his-

And then it was gone, leaving Hermione and him alone.

There was a moment of silence as both their eyes bulged, gaping. Harry choked, before quickly trying to get a hold of his magic again which had seemed to be slipping out without his notice.

"Harry, get it off!" Hermione hissed as he struggled with the ring, but it was impossible; the horcrux was stuck to his skin.

"I can't," Harry said, before flushing as it all caught up to him. "Fuck it, Hermione. Tom Riddle's a goddamn pervert."

"Harry!" She shrieked. "This isn't a time to make jokes."

He became more desperate, as he could now feel the slow purr of magic along his skin. He relaxed against his better judgment, before realizing it was the soulpiece, not him who felt smug.

"That wasn't a joke, Hermione. He's always be obsessed with me, and now this ring is stuck on my finger. I _can't get it off._"

They stared each other, and Harry was trying to wonder if not feeling disgusted by the whole affair was something to be worried about.

"H-he just kissed you. Kissed, Harry. Voldemort-"

Moaning, Harry rolled onto his stomach, burying his face in a pillow. "I don't want to think about it."

An awkward sort of silence fell over them. Hermione spoke first, when neither could take much longer.

"Don't tell me you_ liked_ it?"

He sat up, quicker than lightning. "No- not really. It was too quick-"

It was obviously not what she had expected to hear. Honestly, it wasn't what he had expected either.

"Oh Merlin," Hermione whispered. "What are you going to do? What were you going to do, Harry? If you were going to kill him, you would have destroyed that already, wouldn't you? This plan, was Voldemort going to live?"

"I don't know," He finally said. "I was going to see what happened at the graveyard. Too many horcruxes makes you crazy, and he has too many, Hermione. But even in the original timeline, he didn't truly start to go until Dumbledore destroyed this one, which is one of the larger ones. Before that - there was still Tom. Not just Voldemort."

"You aren't light. And I know from what you've said that killing doesn't bother, does it? Not anymore. What are you going to do?" Hermione said.

He was amazed at well she was taking it, and how calm Hermione had been at those last words. Like they didn't matter to her. What had changed?

"Fuck," He sighed. "I don't know, 'Mione. I honestly didn't expect horcrux Tom to feel - you know." He gestured to himself.

"You said they had always been better with you than me, right?"

"Yes, but not like that," Harry shook his head. "I can't think about this."

They sat there for a moment, trying not to look at each other.

"What's happened here, no one can know," Harry said slowly, after a time. "But Dumbledore and Snape can simply pluck it out of your mind. There's something called occlumency, but it will take some time to learn, so I'm going to put a charm of a sort on you. It's lamia based, but until you learn the other way, it'll keep them out."

It was obvious neither wished to speak what the 'happened here' was, at the moment. Harry got up, nicking his wrist with the edge of a fingernail, and with a few well-spoken words, he trailed the liquid in a bloody pattern over Hermione's eyelids. She flinched at each drop, but did nothing to stop him.

"There," He said, when he was finished. "That should keep them away from this."

"But what if they know the blocks here? Won't they try to dig deeper if they realize something's different?"

At that, Harry smirked for the first time in several minutes. "Oh, I don't think they'll want to look any further, unless they have a demented sort of curiosity. It isn't a block, really, but more of a distraction. I partied a lot, Hermione. I slept with a lot of people, and unless either of them _want _to watch me in the first moments of each of those, they'll keep away."

"Oh Merlin," Hermione sighed. "I won't have sudden flashes of that, will I?"

He grinned. "No, but you might if they take a look."

To his surprise, she blushed.

"What?" He asked.

"You're very beautiful, Harry."

His eyebrows raised. "Thank you?"

"And as strange as it sounds - and I know it's wrong in some ways to think it, but Volde- Tom Riddle is as well. Both of you seem almost - almost like you f-"

"Don't," Harry breathed. "Don't say it." He didn't think he would be able to stand it.

"Then I won't," She said more softly. "And I'm repulsed by what the man has done, but Dumbledore isn't good, so why does Voldemort have to be all bad, right?"

"What are you saying?"

"I don't know," Hermione said quickly. "It just came over me all of-"

They both stared suspiciously at the ring and Harry sighed as he recognised it trying to siphon magic again, but this time from Hermione. He tightened his hold on it, and opened the door out to the corridor.

"Time to go," He said. "We're already past curfew."

"The bloody thing was controlling me just now, wasn't it?" She hissed under her breath as she stalked past him.

He winced. "Probably. And since I stupidly brought it into a school with so much magic, it'll only become stronger."

"Harry…."

"I know," He said, as he kicked the door shut. "I'll try to keep him under control."

"Him?" Hermione said.

Harry swore. It had all afternoon to slowly nestle into his magic without him knowing.

"Just be careful," She warned. "But it doesn't seem like it'll try to hurt you, if you know what I mean."

He stared at her incredulously, but Hermione kept firmly in front of him.

"Oh hell, if the horcrux gets strong enough and jumps me in my sleep, it's your fault," He said, almost jokingly to try and lighten the mood. For both of them. He wasn't expecting what Hermione said next.

"If he does, make sure you have silencing charms up, Harry. I've read lamia can get quite loud."

He stood slack-jawed as she turned the corner, and only moved when he could think again.

Hermione had made a joke.

She really was trying to be different.

* * *

Winter was quickly approaching and that meant one thing; the Yule Ball. After Mcgonagall's announcement in one Transfiguration class, the entire school in disarray. Because of his obviously changed looks and personality, it caused more than a few girls to ask to be his date. It had started to become more than a little obnoxious, to the point of him tending to hide between classes and hanging out in the Room of Requirement after dinner. It also cut off Riddle's horcrux from excess magic, which was quickly becoming more powerful than Harry really had patience for anyways.

Like before, Viktor Krum had started to hang around the library and soon afterwards, Hermione had run after him, flushed faced, telling him that Krum had asked her to the ball. But that didn't change the fact that _he _needed a date.

"So who are you going with to the ball, Harrikins?" A redheaded twin said slyly, as he crept up behind him.

Harry jumped, and was only pulled back up by the other twin.

"I heard for you it's _mandatory._"

Harry glowered at them, knowing both of them already had dates. "Do you know what it's like getting asked by a second year? A second year! And then there's that group of seven years, who honestly just creep me out." He sniffed a bit in disgust, and broke off when the twins both started to laugh.

"Just pick someone who doesn't creep you out then," Fred said. "It can't be that hard."

He just stared at them in disbelief. "There aren't many of them. Hufflepuff's are out since they still hate me for Cedric, Cho's a bitch, and the only other choices I have are either Lavender Brown or pug-face from Slytherin."

George fake-gasped. "Now that's just rude. Parkinson is only looking better and better these days. I think she's really trying for a certain blond."

Harry smirked. "Then her luck's out because he's definitely not interested. Methinks he bats for the other team."

The twin's eyebrows raised, both expressions becoming a little malicious.

"Oh? Do tell," George practically purred.

"It's not like we have anything against such things-"

"Au contraire, both of us have definitely - what's that word?"

"Experimented, eh Georgie?"

Fred flashed a pearly smile. "Of course, dear bro-"

"Merlin," Harry said, stopping them midway. "I got it. And he may be a git but he doesn't deserve to be outed in such a way. Spell his hair red, remove his clothing mid-ball, hang him from a chandelier somewhere, I don't care."

"Hang him from a chandelier - I rather like that idea-"

"But having him go nude halfway through, brother of mine, wouldn't that be so much…."

Harry took that as a chance to escape, and breathed in a sigh of relief as he made it around the corner. The twins were brilliant, he would give them that. They were also two people he would never want to be on a blacklist for.

As he headed towards the library a harried voice stopped him, along with a high pitched one that he immediately recognised and hated instantly. Ironic as it was though, as he had just been speaking of her.

"...But Cedric," Cho was whining, and Harry gritted his teeth against the noise. Merlin, was it awful.

"Cedric," He greeted in a false cheerful voice, upstarting the black haired girl and leaving his friend rather befuddled. The light haired boy also looked beyond pissed, all at once, which was impressive, and Harry took it as a warning.

"I'll just - um see you later," Cho said, before skittering away, and Harry grinned, not being able to help himself.

"Thanks for that, she's been really annoying lately," Cedric said tiredly and he turned his attention to the other boy.

"Don't worry about it, I've heard she's been after you since you started dating - what's her name?"

Cedric just stared at him wearily and Harry laughed in response.

"Sorry, I've been really caught up in stuff, and names really aren't my thing."

"Names aren't your thing?" Cedric repeated, "Do you know what that sounds like?"

Harry raised an eyebrow, smiling like a shark. "I know_ exactly _what that sounds like."

Flouncing away, Harry continued down the corridor, silently smirking. He hadn't been lying. But that suddenly reminded him, this body - it was still a virgin.

His face screwed up in horror, and he turned around so fast he crashed into the brown haired boy who seemed to have been following him.

"That hurt," Harry muttered as he fell back into the window, and Cedric groaned.

"Why did you do that?" The light haired boy demanded irritably and Harry only made it worse when he started laughing again.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, through mid-chuckle, "I just suddenly remembered something."

"Well, it's not funny," He snapped, before immediately pulling at his hair. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"You aren't looking so good," Harry said, and the other boy sighed.

"It's been a rough week," Cedric said, moving to stand closer to him, so he wouldn't be in the middle of the hall. Not minding the fact that there was no one there.

"Ah," Harry started delicately, before cringing at his stubborn thoughts. He was still a virgin. A not-fucking _virgin. _It was all so awful. Harry almost wanted to drown.

"I really liked her for awhile, Cho. And then she got so clingy even though we weren't really together so I 'broke it off', even though we weren't ever a thing," Cedric continued. "And at first I felt sort of bad about it, but now she just makes me so angry-"

"Look at that, Gred, them getting so close to each other," And Harry whirled around, meeting George's grinning face. Cedric suddenly looked nervous.

"I thought I got rid of you two with talk of the chandelier," Harry sighed dramatically and the twins looked smug.

"Of course not, Harrikins-"

"While hanging Malfoy from candlelights would be rather charming-"

"We hadn't finished our conversation yet," Fred finished.

Cedric was looking distinctly pale at the moment, and his voice cracked as he spoke.

"Chandelier?"

The twin's attention quickly turned on the older boy, and he looked as though he wished he had stayed silent.

"My brother and I, along with Harry were having an absolutely astonishing conversation about a certain blond boy in Slytherin-"

"And Harry seemed to know something _secretive_ about him-"

"But he is a kind soul-" Harry snorted. "So he made us not use it against him. Instead he gave some lovely pranks."

They gave Cedric an appraising look. "Want to help us out?"

The brown haired boy shuddered. "I don't think so."

George turned to him. "Harry-"

"Absolutely not," He said quickly. "Now why don't you two just run along - what about you ask Ron? I'm sure he'd _die_ for a chance." His lips curved at the thought, and all three of them looked strangely at the younger boy, although the twins less so.

"Walking around nude, or hanging him around somewhere?" Fred said smirking after a moment, and Harry joined him.

"Why can't you do both?" Harry slyly said, and George gave his twin a look.

"Excuse us," Fred bowed mockingly, "But we need to go find-"

"A dear brother of ours-"

"Family first, you know," George sang, and the two disappeared.

Cedric seemed to have stopped breathing somewhere in the conversation, as he was panting for air.

"You're really afraid of them?" Harry said, trying not to laugh.

"They haven't pranked you before?" Cedric said.

He shook his head. "Not really."

The light haired boy shivered. "It's scary, ever since their first year. I suppose Gryffindors don't get it so bad, but everyone else? We're fair game."

"Really?" His attempt to hold his amusement in was almost at it's breaking point.

"What did they want, anyways?" Cedric said. "They were saying something about not finishing your conversation."

Harry looked almost smug. "They didn't get it either. But it was about dates for the Yule Ball and how most people I could take are creeps."

Cedric looked uncertain. "They can't be all bad?"

The dark haired boy started to count off his fingers. "Hufflepuffs are out, as you know. There's barely any Ravenclaws I actually have ever talked to, Gryffindor has only Lavender Brown and her ever giggling friend, and Slytherin I have the wonderful choices of Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode - or Daphne Greengrass. Who isn't actually a bad choice, now that I think about it, but she's probably already taken. The rest, Cedric, are pedophilec seventh years and over mature second years. Yes, my quest for a date is going wonderfully."

At the last part, the older boy choked.

"They aren't _pedophiles_, Harry. You don't look fourteen anyways, can you blame them?"

"Why thank you," Harry purred flippantly. "But I refuse."

Flushing slightly, Cedric attempted to speak again. "Why don't you pick someone you don't really know then? LIke a Ravenclaw."

"I could…." Harry paused, as one person stuck out again, like she had before. It took him only seconds to consider.

"I got it," He said grinning, "And I know exactly what to do. Thanks, Cedric."

"Wha- I didn't do anything? Wait, where are you going?" The other boy called after him, but Harry was already halfway down the corridor.

And it seemed she knew already. Halfway to their common room, Luna was perched on a windowsill, waiting for him.

"Can I wear that dress I wore to the party when you were twenty-four? The ministry one?" She said in a much less misty sort of voice, but high spirited.

"The muggle one?" Harry said with amusement, and a bit of wonder at what it was like to have everyone's destiny in your head.

"Yes," She said, slipping off to join him. "The red one. I was very happy you bought that for me."

"I thought it would fit you," Harry hummed. "I'll have to get it custom made though."

"That's fine," She said. "Can you do my hair again? It looked nice. Everyone was very surprised when they saw me."

"I think they were even more surprised when you weren't spouting off about nargles, Luna."

She smiled slyly, pressing a finger to her lips. "I'm going to wait a bit before that, though."

"Of course," Harry said.

"Is Marvolo giving you trouble?" She asked suddenly, eyes dropping to his ring.

He glanced down as well. "Marvolo?"

"That's what he calls himself, although he would rather not be talking to me." Luna giggled, a glint in her eyes that told him she knew something.

"Right," He drawled. "Well if you can tell him to get the hell out of my dreams, that would be great."

She wiggled her eyebrows. "In those exact words? It might only get worse if I tell him that. He's quite stubborn."

"Fuck," He muttered. "How much do you know?"

She flicked him right where his chest would be. "I can't tell you that, Harry."

He scratched his scar, before quickly putting his hand down. Old habits.

Looking down in disgust at the ring, he covered it with his sleeve. "I really wish I could take it off."

"You should probably give up that idea." Luna shrugged. "He's not going to let you go."

"Which one?" He said, not really wanting to know.

She laughed. "None of them, Harry. Why do you think he tried so desperately to kill you?"

With that, she flitted away, leaving him in shock.

"Luna!" He hissed, but she was already gone. Sighing, Harry hoisted himself onto the window seat.

When he had taken the ring, he had been more afraid of Death's words, and barely focused on the horcrux, assuming it would react the same as they had always.

Merlin, why had he been so stupid? Why couldn't he think things through before doing them? He couldn't even blame Dumbledore on this mess.

"You're going to behave," Harry finally said, looking at the ring. The purr of dark magic curled around his finger, clamoring into his skin, but this time he barely cared at all.

"Just don't take too much," Harry warned sulkily, before leaning back and staring out at the lake. The next test would be in a few months, and it seemed he had the advantage again, even if he wouldn't be using it.

It was honestly sort of depressing.


End file.
